Falcon-kissing, or Day 83 in Al Ain, Oman, and Abu Dhabi

Again, you get another day-after post.

We attempted to start off yesterday (Friday) early, but slept in a bit. Haya, our CouchSurfing host, was free for the day, so we tempted her with talk of the Al Ain Palace Museum, and we were off. Since it was a Friday, the museum was closed until 3pm, so we headed to the base of Jebel Hafeet, a mountain (yes, finally something that isn't flat).

At the base was this great park, very green and unsustainable, but with a hot springs running through it. It was just after 10am, so cool enough to hike a bit up one of the crags. This didn't last long (it was still at least 90F or 33C) so we took a respite in the shade and kicked off our shoes to dip our feet in the iron-colored, hot-tub-hot water.

It was interesting talking to Haya about her travels. She's been east, west, north, south, everywhere and had knowledge about each place. And the places she hadn't been to, she'd hosted Couch Surfers from. There was a man, Lachlan, who was biking around Eurasia for seven years, and had been to over 100 countries. Then there was her adventures in Jordan with a Bedouin man. So much to chat about.

We drove up the mountain to look at the palace, built by one of the sheikhs for a summer home, since the breeze and the height cooled the air a bit. A hotel was at the top, and we got (very American) club sandwiches and fresh squeezed juice.

With a bit of time to kill, and some heat we wanted to avoid, Haya offered to drive us to Oman! We stopped at the first border (crossing over one of those one-way spike tracks that freaked out Michael and Haya), only to be told it was a locals-only crossing. Ten more minutes down the road, we got through the first checkpoint.

Oman has a "free zone"-type area where our passports didn't get stamped and we didn't have to buy visas. So we cruised around, looking for a flag for Michael and other random shops to be it. After exiting a "foodstuffs" souq, we took a right, only to be at the border again. All of us were turned around, but I assumed that this was the other border crossing (the one we hadn't been able to go through).

We continued our haphazard journey, and found some refreshment at a "Juice Palace." Ordering off the menu, Michael got something with had a lot of fruit in it, and Haya got a mango, cream, and cookie concoction. The funny part was, neither of them were actually juice! They had actually ordered cut-up fruits instead. I had a bit of my juice, then we too tempted by Haya's, so we traded.

We finally could go to the now-open palace, so we headed back for the UAE and Al Ain. The palace borders an oasis, made up of a bunch of palm trees that I'm sure would have been a delight to walk through during the cool parts of the day.

The palace itself was built by Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, in the 1930s, before oil had been discovered in the region. He had requested that it be preserved as it was, showing the more humble beginnings of his emirate.

And it was very pretty and pretty simple. The walls enclosed quaint courtyards, dark bedrooms, and a tent with a seating area (majlis). I would love to have lived and entertained there.

As we exited, there was some exhibition of traditional song and dance. Two rows of en-thobed men with light cane-like sticks did a call and repeat sort of dance and chant with each other. The canes are so flimsy as to be useless as canes, but as dancing sticks, they looked pretty cool being lifted and moved along the line of men.

We got to Al Ain station, Haya dropped us off at our bus, and we thanked her profusely for being a wonderful Couch-Surfing host.

This bus was much easier to get on, but there was some complicated math. Here is a story problem for you:

Suppose you are on a full bus to Abu Dhabi, but a few people get off at scattered stops. Another bus breaks down, and you take on their nearly-full load of passengers as well.

Now supposed that this bus bumps into another that pulls in front of it, damaging the mirror and causing some scuffs and dents. This other bus is nearly full as well.

The final part of the problem is when, ten minutes later, a third bus arrives on the scene of the bump and allows about a quarter bus-full of passengers aboard. How many passengers got to their destination on time?

Well, we were less than half an hour late, so among the lucky ones, I believe. We took another taxi to find Maye and Omar, our hosts for that (last) night.

Maye took us on a walk along the Abu Dhabi corniche, opposite where we had been on Thursday. We got frozen yogurt (one of my passions that I picked up in California over the summer, and it tasted very delicious).

We also talked about how other Couch Surfers talk to Maye and Omar so they can "stay with the locals." Both of them are transplants from Egypt, so the customs of the Gulf are foreign to them as well. She mentioned one where men tap their noses together three times in greeting. Michael was a bit put-off by the facial proximity, but Maye said the origins lay in falcons (a revered and bred bird around here). When meeting another bird, they tap their beaks... a nose is a beak, right?

When we got back, Omar had woken up from his nap, and they were ready to take us to PJs, an Irish pub in a hotel nearby.

The loud music, proponderance of males, and older ladies going a bit crazy made me glad when we went to sit by the pool instead of at the bar. We had a good time, swapping stories and favorite drinks. An Irish car bomb was introduced to the table by Michael, and we were all happy as we were leaving.

We were all a bit hungry too. We headed for the co-op (their grocery store), then headed to McDonald's. With the amount of high-heeled, short-skirted women coming in the door, our choice was fairly typical for a 3am craving, and did us just fine until morning.