I finally managed to destroy my first real pair of cargo pants. I feel slightly odd without it, but I've never been a pants-loving kind of man, so I think I'll get over it rather swiftly.
En-Nur the Camel has been on a walk-a-about for the past few days and I sincerely hope that he will return soon, because the stale bread we brought for him has almost turned into granite and also because I'm a camel-loving kind of guy. Well, not in a physically intimate kind of way, of course...
Which brings me to the next subject.
BREASTS!
I've always been a breast-loving kind of guy, you can interpret that any way you like, and this absence of even a nicely outfitted scenery of cleavage to look at is driving my up the walls. As long as those walls aren't the ones of a goat shed I should be all right, for now...
And now for something completely different...
We went to Petra last week. That was fucking, no pun intended, awesome!
When our driver saw we could get in for free he went along, but I think the man seriously came to rue his decision to follow a bunch of crazy cliff-jumpers on his day off. We took him to and fro and up and under every hill, mountain, nook and cranny we came across and this on his day off from his two, yes two, regular jobs during the week.
Allah wasn't entirely satisfied either and He caused our car to break down before we even started to head back. Many hours and friendly Jordanians who had cousins with the same type of battery later we were able to head back to Aqaba.
We had to sing for the entire two hour trip to keep the driver awake and I'm not sure who was more damaged by the experience, the poor driver or my fellow van-mates...
Anyhow, next Friday we got to the Wadi Rum, insjallah!
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