Land of Sand
After a fortnight's escape to a proper country, returning to the sandlands is as downlifting as a balloon fashioned of pure lead nuclei.
It's no consolation to find the Gulf News at last admitting that palefaces are the only ones who know how to drive, as the latest Rent-A-Wreck Silver Shadow (white this time) weaves its weary pace around the cretins and morons of Sheikh Zayed road.
Two weeks in a land where people drive correctly and politely, not expecting a fat slice of wusta to get them past a violation. A land where a sundress can be worn without the intrusive glare of a thousand lustful eyes. A land where a cool beer can be enjoyed in a beachfront cafe instead of the gilded palatial wallet-agony of a five star hotel. A land where lovers can walk hand in hand, hug and embrace, without fear of arrest.
It's no consolation to find the Gulf News at last admitting that palefaces are the only ones who know how to drive, as the latest Rent-A-Wreck Silver Shadow (white this time) weaves its weary pace around the cretins and morons of Sheikh Zayed road.
Two weeks in a land where people drive correctly and politely, not expecting a fat slice of wusta to get them past a violation. A land where a sundress can be worn without the intrusive glare of a thousand lustful eyes. A land where a cool beer can be enjoyed in a beachfront cafe instead of the gilded palatial wallet-agony of a five star hotel. A land where lovers can walk hand in hand, hug and embrace, without fear of arrest.
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