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Southern Oman

I left Colin sitting in a bar last night and went for a walk along the beach here in Salalah. Lots of things about this part of Oman remind me of Brazil, and as I sat on the beach I could see fish jumping in the water and crabs running along the shore. Although it was after midnight the beach was busy with people sitting along it, and waiters from the cafes across the road were bringing drinks down to the people on the sand. The Southern Cross was hanging just above the horizon and the air was full of mist from the heat and the breaking waves.

Colin stumbled into the hotel hours later, having taken one of those shortcuts you only find when you're drunk and ended up crawling through a swamp, being rescued by Indians, and finally covering the 4km back to the hotel in 2.5 hours.

According to the hotel staff some locals came to the hotel asking about us last night, and thinking that we were Americans. Luckily we've been telling people that we're Irish as there's a lot of anti UK & US sentiment around, and though we've no idea what it was about, we're glad to be leaving this evening. We're catching the 'desert express' back to Muscat, which means a 12 hour bus journey cross country with no toilet on board.

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