RUBBISH A friend of mine who has spent a deal of time in this region described the Omani people to me as "the hippies of the gulf". I didn't notice any peace sign neck chains, dreadlocks or groups of locals sitting around eating bird seed and smoking numbers whilst discussing the kaleidoscope of colours on the domes of mosques. I do however see some merit in the simile with the general kick back nature of the populace. There's no wild antics, animated gesticulating or hints of aggressive behaviour, as if they have been inhaling a few of those less than licit substances. There's even a semblance of sanity in the traffic. Good news is no news. That's why you have probably never seen Oman occupying the headlines of international media. Flying under the radar is a ... read more

TOUCHDOWN No doubt about it, Iran suffers from a chronic image problem. Having a top dog like Mahmoud Ahmadinajad doesn't help. He does for Iran's international profile what Donald Trump does for the hair replacement industry. The rest of the population is guilty by association. Tell someone you're going to Iran and the only sound you're likely to hear is their jaws hitting the floor. Couple that with a blank stare and there is no need to read between the lines to decipher what they think of the idea? We accounted this to a western populace misguided by a prejudiced media but like our visit to Yemen 5 years earlier, we began questioning ourselves when other people from this region debated our sanity. One congenial young flight attendant from Turkish Airlines commented; "Please. At least don't ... read more

When I told my Lebanese barber back home I was hoping to swing by the "mother country" on our world trip, his response was lifted straight from Lebanon's patriotic script, infused with that Lebanese/Australian accent of the young that I don't quite get; "MATE! Lebanon is fooly seek MATE". His next line was a given. The Lebanese cliche of; "Mate. You can ski in da mawning and go sweeming at da bich in da aftanoon mate". With those adulations in mind and Istanbul in the plane's rear view mirror, we were Beirut bound. We call it chaos. The Lebanese call Beirut home and it began at the airport. Our flight coincided with a plane load of devotees returning from the Hajj and the terminal resembled a ticker tape parade for a victorious sporting team. In the ... read more

All roads led to Rhodes but nightfall had already set in as we skulked through the gates and into the safe confines of the Old City walls. Given the surroundings we almost expected a Knight of the Round Table to clank past in his gleaming suit of armour and sporting a jousting pole under the armpit. The skeleton of Rhodes Town is Medieval from head to toe. It would have been more palatable had we not been toting backpacks and horribly disoriented. Trying futilely to locate our pension tucked into an obscure corner of this labyrinth was proving a challenge with sketchy directions and a map shy on detail. An aerial perspective would have looked like one of those mazes where the mouse tries to hunt down the piece of cheese. We eventually stumbled onto our ... read more

About as popular as a rabbi at the Hajj, it was hardly surprising Angela Merkel wasn't exactly welcomed with open arms by the general Greek public. The sight on Rome television of tear gas saturating the Athenian air and protesters being dragged away by adrenalined up security forces didn't bode well for our arrival the following day. But hey presto, 24 hours later, in we stepped and though the police presence around Syntagma Square was pumped and primed, a few boisterous but generally passive student demonstrations only sufficed to add a touch of carnival spice to the ambience. I'm torn on whose side to take on the Greek plight. In the red corner, European Mr Bigs are willing to fork out a few hundred billion euros but only with a sheaf of cast iron guarantees. In ... read more