Well hi there folks - a short note to let you know that I arrived safely
in Doha yesterday morning - which is more than could be said for my luggage,
thoughtfully left behind in Dubai by the superlative efforts of Emirates
(now my most disliked airline, surpassing even Olympic in their lack of care
consideration and effort) But enough of the complaints (they can come
later)
My flight from Australia was delayed by about 1.5 hours, during which time I
did the usual things one does when sitting at an airport: manicured my nails
flossed my teeth (but not in public) read all the frightful magazines on
display (didn't buy any - I'm a cheapskate) and drank several cups of very
bad airport coffee.
Finally the flight was called and I entered the realms of Emirates - the
airline others like to copy - or so they claim. For the sake of other
flights I may have to make I sincerely hope this isn't true or I'll have to
contemplate swimming home later this year.
I'll gloss over the various deficiencies of Emirates since they are boring
and would take up too much of your valuable time (time much better spent
writing to me) but I'd like to share one gem with you. When my special meal
(pre-ordered) was dropped on to my tray from a height of approximately half
a metre, I suggested to the young attendant that it possibly was not the
meal intended for myself. "yes it is" - "well, I don't think so" - Yes it is
..."well isn't actually, and the reason I know this is that my name isn't
MUNRO". But she got the last word in, loftily informing me that "it doesn't
really matter because they're all pretty much the same"....which must be
comforting for people who've ordered a Halal or Kosher meal.
Possibly the only other excitement of the trip (apart from having an entire
row of seats to myself between Brisbane and Singapore) was the discovery
that the very chewy jelly baby I tried to munch on around 0100 was in fact
one of my ear plugs ... It shouldn't surprise you to hear that this isn't
something that I can recommend as an in-flight snack.
Doha: what can I say? Not a lot as it happens. Arriving in a country which
won't issue a visa until you actually land here is a slightly unnerving 
experience. I did as instructed, billed my visa to Mastercard (you are
pretty much followed everywhere, electronically at least but more of that
later) and emerged, without luggage (lost by the superlative Emirates
somewhere between Brisbane and Doha) to be greeted by Jim. 
I must say I was pretty impressed with Jim's skill in negotiating what pass
for roads (mostly driven on by portly gentlemen steering the much loathed
four wheel drive vehicles so popular here in pretty much any fashion they
choose...which is fine of course since it is their country after all) and
dealing with the roundabouts which are the chief point of reference for all
directions here.
Arriving at Villa Very Large with Lots of Bathrooms (that isn't really its
name but it will do for now) I proceeded to sleep for two days and only
emerged to eat dinner at a Turkish cafe and sit here at the office in order
to email you ... No broadband at the above named Villa sad to relate so be
grateful for anything from me.
At present my observations of Doha aren't tremendously positive. When a
country relies on a blow up soccer ball (billed as the world's largest
football) as its main claim to fame you know that you're in for a very long
year or two. The soccer ball is, unfortunately, best known for its general
air of deflation - shame that they can't keep it filled but they were
working on it as we drove past earlier this afternoon. 
The villa is quite spacious, and since there isn't much furniture (or
anything else) in it, housework is likely to be minimal. Jim has been living
here with three other SMEC people for the past 11 weeks and seems nicely
settled in. Personally, I'm a bit past sharing for more that a week or two,
so hopefully a more permanent, one family abode will appear soon. Everything
is exceptionally dusty as you would expect, and I feel sorry for the little
guy over the road who has to wash and polish a black vehicle every morning.
Still, it gives him a job and income and he seems happy enough when he waves
to me. I'm quite stunned at the number of bathrooms in the villa, but since
this country has the highest per capita income of all the Gulf States, they
can obviously afford both the bathroom accoutrements and the water (piped
under sea from a desalination plant in Iran apparently) to service them. 
Last night we went shopping at LuLu Hypermarket, located just down the road
from Villa Bathroom. There really seemed to be nothing that wasn't available
from a gigantic plasma TV down to Pampers (America's gift to the world??)
in industrial size packaging. Virtually everything in the food line seems to
be imported, although Jim tells me that some vegetables and fruits are grown
locally.
I'm having a bit of trouble adjusting to the place that women occupy here...
which is about ten steps behind the men. They seem very shy and don't make a
lot of eye contact but maybe that will change when I don't feel so
conspicuous. As ever, a gesture of appreciation of their beautiful children
seems to go down well. 
Jim has just pointed out that my visa is stamped for one MOUNTH and I am
allowed entry to the Sultanate of Oman. Since the visa is supposed to be for
21 days (while my resident status is confirmed ...a very lengthy process
which I am certain will involve me flying out of the country and back in
again every few weeks) and I didn't ask for entry to Oman -and am not even
certain just where it's located)-this could be slightly worrying, but hey,
what the heck?
Oman might have the world's biggest blow up fish, or some very large
concrete construction to rival the very big, very ugly oyster shell which
is located on the Corniche - in the ritzy part of Doha. The Qatari are
exceptionally proud of it, and come to think of it, we have more than our
fair share of ugly concrete bananas, pineapples and prawns in Australia so I
shouldn't assume a position of superiority in cultural matters.
Well that seems to be it for now. I'm truly sorry that I don't have much to
report but maybe that will change as the days and years go by ..............
. I can only hope.
I'm off to the chiropractor in an endeavor to remedy the damage wrought on
my back by three night's sleeping in the world's hardest bed (surprisingly
not made of concrete, although I did wonder at first, but possibly made by
the same factory as the one I had in Ha Noi -which produced similar
lamentable results)
Write when you have time ... With lots of news if you don't mind, otherwise
I shall be forced to watch re-runs of Cagney & Lacey or Father Knows Best 
with loving thoughts from Kim 

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