Team Banana in Musandam - Part 3

When you are in the middle of nowhere, feeling hot, dehydrated and have a salty crust on your banana skin, the discovery of a fresh water tank is better than mango’s. We are two lucky bananas.

As we approach the tank a local fisherman runs over shouting “Snake, snake!” He indicates the size by extending an arm towards us and placing his other hand on his shoulder. An unusual way to indicate length, and also an inaccurate one. We peer under the cleansing water container to see a small coil, tail and head. The snake seemed to be more the length of a banana than a grown mans arm.

Refreshed, we prepare the camp. Yellow, uses his filleting skills, while White uses his fire making skills. The knife glides between bone and flesh, then flesh and skin to produce 4 perfect fillets. Stones dumped, logs plonked, lighter fluid poured, the fire roared. White’s rugged approach reduces the firewood to embers in a matter of minutes. He scrambles over rocks in search of more wood. “Yeeeooooooowwww.” A stubbed toe followed by a hand in a thorn bush. White returns empty handed and the fire is depleted.

Stars fill the sky, fox howls fill the air and fish fills our bellies. Accompanied by fine whisky Yellow and White relax, gaze at the stars and reminisce on the day gone by. All ruined. Four carloads of ex-pats rock up and spoil the tranquillity with shit music. Team Banana are not ones to whinge and decide to ignore this invasion. We continue to enjoy the evening with creative photography. Long exposure accompanied with whisky brings results you would imagine.

The long day has taken its toll and Team Banana retire to their banana hammocks. The tent is erected rapidly; unfortunately this is due to its size. We are two fully grown men and the tent is an adequate size for a single child. Sadly this was not the biggest issue. It’s way too hot, the tent is hot and after 47 seconds we vacate the sauna.

The Bananas go outside and sleep on palm leaves. Not a fart of wind in the air. It’s damn hot. Yellow goes to sleep. White can’t. He watches goats and listens to cunning foxes on the prowl. Yellow snores. White, still awake, feels mozzies penetrating his skin, lazily slapping and always missing. A goat wakes Yellow up; “Who’s there, whats that?”... “Goats. They have been around for hours”. “I think I have been bitten”... “They also have been around for hours.” We decide to sleep in the car. Yellow eases into the passenger’s seat, White gets the steering wheel in his crotch. Yellow snores. White listens to music. No room, uncomfortable and hot White moves outside to try one more time, willing to grin and bear the mozzies just for a few hours sleep.


W&Y