The other day the sky was a dark mustard yellow all over, growing darker by the minute as the sun set somewhere deep far behind the thick wall of sand. I'd never seen anything like it: I was literally stunned into silence. I felt like some of my students did that day it snowed in Brighton, running to the window open-mouthed. The wind began to blow a gale as Musab drove us home that night, and sand whipped our faces and legs when we prised ourselves from the comfort of his air conditioned Lexus. An electrical storm brewed overhead. Magical.
I saw another thing I'd never seen before. (Look away now Suzie, Rachel, Steve and all other vegetarians.) Camels' heads, sometimes with their long necks still attached, hanging from hooks outside butchers shops. Mouths open, eyes open. Quite grotesque but, as such sights often are, also strangely hypnotic. Huw thinks he might have eaten camel before, he's not sure (how can you not be sure?!) but that's one delight I have yet to sample.
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