One of the advantages of living here is that you can pop to Oman for the weekend, which is what we did last week.
We drove from Abu Dhabi over the border to the Musandam Peninsula and the exclusive, gorgeous Zighy Bay resort.
Arriving there from the city through a mountain track populated by goats was extremely exciting and romantic. The resort itself has a feel to it a little like a small Spanish village from another era, with sandy tracks the children cycled up and down and wooden huts.
Listening to the sea was glorious, the waves crashing against the beach and hundreds of little crabs scuttling around like over-sized demented spiders.
It was so lovely to see the children outside, cycling around, playing and swimming. They had three friends there and the six of them roamed around in a pack, in total safety, and ordered room service endlessly (eating for kids under the age of 12 was free).
There was a classic line from Bea when she told me off for being caught topless by her young friends; “Mummy, you only have one life and there is no point in spending it naked”.
The four of adults played tennis (once we got Leo and Max, the new Rafa and Federer off the court), read books and watched the England game which was undoubtedly the low-light of the weekend.
Having said that possibly the only thing that was more painful and irritating than witnessing England’s sad performance was watching my husband flirting with a Brazilian woman sitting next to us. What is it about Brazilian women that sends men mad? You just have to mention the word Brazilian and they start salivating and behaving like fools.
As there were no men for me to flirt with I went to bed at half-time hoping that by the time I woke up England would have scored. They hadn’t, but neither had my husband, so I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2010