It would be fair to assume that I do spend a lot of time in five star hotels – either lounging around, terrorizing their chefs or drinking heavily. The reasons for this are twofold – in the Middle East hotels are generally the only place a gal can drink in public and frankly, my handbag collection demands a stage. That said, I don’t mind a greasy spoon joint (hangover helper) or a quality cafe. Anywhere with good coffee, magazines and decent people watching/judging opportunities. On one of my most recent trips to Muscat, my regular partner in crime GF and I ventured out of the rarefied confines of five stardom…
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Taking a Pont (L’Eveque)
Summer has well and truly enveloped the Gulf region. I know this for several reasons: 1. It’s really hot. Like 46 degrees hot. Hotter than Satan’s private beach hot. 2. It is so hot it’s that time of year when expats take photos of the temperature readouts in their car and post them on Facebook/Twitter/everywhere 3. There is no traffic in Doha 4. I feel perpetually sniffly because of the Baltic air conditioning in buildings 5. There is a brisk trade in swapping and “borrowing” of the latest box sets and illegal film and series downloads among friends. It’s summer. It’s 46 degrees. What you gonna do? 6. I get…