#3 - Creepy crab

It seems that, in the part of the Middle East we visited, the biggest hazard to one's health is driving. Or rather, being driven. And I'm not even talking daredevil dunebashing. I'm talking driving down the freaking highway in Oman. It is the longest straightest most boringest (sic) (the sic is for Nilbo) highway EVER. So much so that all the cars in Oman have been installed with a device that begins beeping when the speedometer goes past 120 km because, according to our guide, people fall asleep all the time driving on this road and should they lean into the accelerator, hopefully the beeping will awaken them before they crash, in a fiery blaze, at the side of the road.

So yeah. That's the highway we hired a taxi to drive us on for more than four hours. You know, in the middle of the night.

Of the five people in the vehicle during this trip, I was the only one who was wide awake. And the five people includes the driver. The three guys I was traveling with - Rob, Mr. Mojo, and Mojo's friend F, all fell asleep more or less immediately. I'd been plane-traveling for the previous 24 hours, but somehow I wasn't sleepy. At first, this was just because I was excited to have finally arrived and be starting the trip. Soon, though, my alertness was due to sheer terror.

The driver kept nodding off. Like, continuously. I was sitting in the middle of the backseat and I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror. The first time he stopped for a break, I mentioned his sleepiness to the other guys. I thought they'd be as alarmed by this as I was, but as soon as we were back in the car, they all went right back to sleep. Right back to sleep! They knew there was the possibility that they might be driven to their deaths and still they slept! You have to be really fucking tired to think, "I would rather sleep for the next five minutes than live for the next 50 years. I am so exhausted that, honestly, I would trade my life for a quick catnap."

The car would slow down as the driver nodded off and then speed back up when he jerked himself awake. I didn't know what to do because we still had a couple hours left to go - we needed him to keep driving so we could get there. So I just watched him (and the road) vigilantly. And through it all, the boys slept. They would wake from time to time, check to see that we were still on the road and, seeming satisfied with that, they'd drop their heads and snooze some more. The car's speedometer was beeping more or less incessantly - sounded just like an alarm clock - but even that didn't disturb their slumber. Fuckers.

At one point the driver actually bent completely over in his seat, asleep. I said something to him and shook his shoulder to rouse him. After that, I made Rob promise to stay awake with me. Which he did. The driver took a break soon afterwards, and at that point we were getting close enough to our destination that everyone managed to stay awake for the rest of the ride.

Al Bustan Palace Hotel

I have never been so relieved to arrive anywhere, ever. The hotel was really nice, but it was particularly beautiful to me at that moment because I was so goddamn glad to be alive. They actually let us check into our rooms early (as in 3am when the official check-in time was noon!). We showered and rested in our rooms for awhile and then moseyed down to the beach to see the sunrise. The hotel grounds were lush with flowers and palm trees, and hammocks and chairs with palm umbrellas were scattered throughout and the place just made me so happy and did I mention I was so goddamn glad to be alive? The water was warm, and I swam a little bit in the Gulf of Oman as the sun came up. You know, to celebrate being alive.

Then we discovered the breakfast buffet! Manna from heaven, y'all. There was fruit and pastries and an entire separate room of bread and also a chef who made waffles and any kind of eggs and all the bacon I wanted! (And Frosted Flakes! Which I love. As does Mr. Mojo's friend, F. Who just so happens to be my food soul mate. The F is for Frosted Flakes. And, you know, also his first name.)

So what the hell does the photo of the crab have to do with any of this, you're wondering. Well, it seems there are dangers even in paradise. That first morning, Rob and I were walking along the beach right after the sunrise and these crabs began crawling out of holes in the sand and skittering full speed toward the water. They might have been super-cute if they hadn't been so creepy-crawly with pincers and all. The next day I discovered a hidden cove with a private beach and I brought Rob there to snorkel and whatnot. The whatnot never got underway, though, because the creepy crustaceans began to emerge - with just their beady little eyes sticking out of the sand - and freaked me the fuck out.

Actually, the snorkeling wasn't meant to be either. While in the water, I got stung by a jellyfish. That was a lifetime first! It felt like a piece of seaweed had gotten wrapped around my arm, except that it stung. I had tiny welts all around my bicep, in what I thought was a rather lovely wispy design. I was quite proud of it.

And then the next day, while in the mountains, I got stung by a wasp. On my temple. That sting hurt way hella worse than the jellyfish. It throbbed for hours and gave me a bitch of a headache, but I survived. (Without even whining! No really, ask Rob! He said I was totally tough.)

So the creatures of the Middle East were not particularly welcoming. But there was one exquisite exception. Our first evening in Oman, we went on a boat tour. And we happened upon a school of bottlenose dolphins. Actually, I think it was a superpod or, as I called it, "a whole fucking FLOCK!" There were probably 50 total, in small groups of 10-12. It was incredible. Even the fishermen in the area circled around in their boats and we all watched the dolphins in reverence. They were riding the crests and a few were jumping out of the water and everywhere we looked were dolphins. It was the warmest welcome I have ever received.