I rode my first camel today. It wasn’t anything spectacular in and of itself, other than being a new experience. It’s much like riding a horse except for the standing up and sitting down part. We essentially drove up, got out of the car, I picked out a camel (I’m fairly certain that it knew it was pretty as far as camels go), climbed aboard and was led around in a circle two times (I think it was only supposed to be once, but our guide talked him into a second one so he and Mom could take more pictures), then Mom took a turn (one circle) and we continued on our merry way to the Inland Sea for an afternoon of dune hopping, shell finding and leaning into the wind. Another perfect day. Life is so hard.

Actually, they do race camels around here, though we missed the season for it, and they stopped using people last year because it was too dangerous. Jockeys (children) were falling off and getting hurt. I’m told that now they use robots with a remote controlled arm holding the switch and, as the camels race around the track, the men with the remotes race around the outside of the track in their 4×4′s, yelling and screaming and waving their remotes around. My cousin says it’s a real hoot. I wouldn’t doubt it for an instant.

We leave for Jordan tomorrow, where the real adventure begins.

I’m sorry to report that it is absolutely gorgeous here. The weather is perfect (a balmy mid-nineties), there is a light breeze coming off the water and the view of the private beach from my bedroom window is spectacular. The Spanish Ambassador’s residence is just across the bay and so close that I could almost reach out and touch it. Mom and I took a short moonlight swim last night in water that had to have been no more than a few degrees below body temperature. In other words, perfect. She tried to teach me a little synchronized swimming, but I apparently don’t have the strength for it and ended up collapsing into giggles every time I tried to stick my leg up straight. So, I had to settle for simply sculling around under the moon instead. C’est la vie.

Having just purchased my bus ticket to the airport, I am naturally choosing to pass the time by clinging to the last easy (read free) internet access I may see for the next 11 days. I am going to the middle east. Specifically, to Qatar and Jordan. Ever since the trip became official, I’ve been getting a huge kick out of seeing people’s reactions when I tell them where I’m going. Most of them have no idea where these countries are and when I explain that they are on opposite sides of Saudi Arabia, they generally respond with a sort of stunned silence, with the words “why would anyone in their right mind want to go there in this political climate?” clearly emblazoned across their foreheads. Truly, it makes me giggle.

Qatar, in particular, is a very friendly place and is commonly refered to as the Switzerland of the middle east. My Grandmother’s cousin has been teaching at a medical hospital there for years. Since this is the last year she will be doing so, when the opportunity arose to go, I had to take it. After all, how often does one get such an opportunity, much less with a built in guide? I’ll be meeting up with Mom in Heathrow, where we will board the same plane for the final leg of our journey out, though she will be in business class and I’ll be back in the cheap seats.

My only regret thus far is not being able to share this trip with Mym. His schooling is more important at this juncture, but I will miss him terribly. I spent a great deal of time last night trying to decide what to take along as a little bit of comforting substitute for his presence. I finally settled on a small vial of vanilla oil. It reminds me of Kauai and of Mym.