New Year, New You

Every paper and magazine I pick up at the moment is full of those early January articles extolling the virtues of the post-Christmas detox, the latest exercise fads or the most recent innovations in skincare.

I arrived back from the UK with flu, and looking decidedly less healthy and more sallow than when I left Bahrain in December. So I decided that perhaps I should heed the advice in some of those articles and pay more attention to my skin.

Unfortunately, most of the new, high-tech skincare products on offer in the UK have not yet arrived in Bahrain. But my scouring of the shelves of the local pharmacy did reveal a range of alternatives, my favourite of which (located right next to the New Zealand bovine colostrum pills) was this offering from the Philippines:

This herbal beauty soap promises to renew damaged skin tissues and fade away blemishes and contains a healthy dose of placental enzymes to help you on your way. The box doesn't specify where the enzymes are sourced.

A quick bit of internet research revealed that placenta extracts have been a popular health and beauty product in the Far East for centuries and products containing them are now being touted by swish Swiss clinics and top-end skincare lines beloved of Madonna and the like.

My sister has just had a baby. We were discussing her placenta only last week. Somehow I can't bring myself to open the packet.

No Sex in this City...or is there?

It looks like I'll have to wait until I'm back in the UK or Oz to catch up with the latest exploits of Carrie and friends. Warner Brothers have no plans to release the new Sex and the City movie in any country in the Middle East. So although Sex and the City 2 is supposedly set in Abu Dhabi (the producers were in fact denied permission to film in the Emirate and went to Morocco instead) no-one there will be able to watch it.

This is not surprising. Film censorship in the Gulf is very strict, with no kissing, sex scenes, nudity or bad language being allowed on screen. Films are cut as couples are about to embark on some amorous encounter and resume the next morning when they are fully dressed for breakfast. I took the girls to see the new Shrek film this weekend and the censors had even cut Shrek giving Fiona true love's kiss. Of course this can make some films very disjointed and, in the case of Sex and the City, presumably very short.

And while Bahrain is considered one of the more liberal countries in the Gulf, open displays of sexuality are frowned upon. Women are supposed to dress modestly and cover their heads. Most wear the traditional abaya (black floor-length cloak). Couples are rarely seen walking hand in hand or with their arms round each other and (thankfully) snogging in public is an absolute no-no. Things are significantly stricter across the water in Saudi where a court this week sentenced a man to four months in prison and 90 lashes for "engaging in immoral movements in front of other shoppers". He was caught on camera kissing and hugging a woman in a mall.

So I was extremely surprised to read this week that Bahrain has a sex shop, run by Khadija Ahmed, a Bahraini lady dressed in abaya and headscarf. Her "Khadija Fashion House" (use of the word sex in the shop name would be forbidden) sells a wide range of lingerie, creams to delay male orgasm and sex toys. Islamic scholars have said sex toys are legitimate if used by married couples, although Islam bans the replication of sensitive parts of the body so vibrators are forbidden. Vibration rings, however, are apparently fine. Mrs Ahmed claims her shop helps keep marriages on track and discourages extra-marital affairs.

Judging by the ensuing letters to the local paper, I was not the only person rather taken aback by the shop's existence. One reader using the pseudonym Loyal Bahraini raged about how such shops would corrupt the minds of the younger generation. "Marriage is not about lust" she wrote and "...these products are suitable for countries like Taiwan and Thailand, which have a large uneducated population" but not for Bahrain. Loyal Bahraini has clearly not heard of political correctness.

It seems this is not a view shared by all. Mrs Ahmed's shop has been so successful she is now considering opening another branch in Bahrain and outlets in Dubai and Lebanon.

Driving Middle East style

Need an adrenalin rush? Want to take your life in your hands? Try doing the daily school run - in Bahrain.

Roads in the Middle East are the second most dangerous in the world - only Africa's are worse. This statistic comes as no surprise to those who live here. Venture onto Bahrain's roads on any given day and chances are you will see an accident, or at the very least several near misses brought about by unbelievably stupid driving manouevres.

When I applied for my Bahraini driving licence, I received a copy of the Bahraini Highway Code. The rules of the road are all in there, all up to international standards. The trouble is, no-one adheres to them and no-one enforces them.

So just so you are in the know should you ever come to the Middle East and be stupid enough to hire a car, here are my top ten tips for driving like a local:

1. Seatbelts: don't fasten them, they are a nuisance and will crease your clothes. And never, ever allow your child to wear one - much better to keep them amused while you are on the motorway by bounding around the car, leaping from front to back, draping themselves across the dashboard or sticking their heads out of the windows or sunshine roof.

2. Car seats: don't buy them; they are totally unnecessary. Put baby in the front on his mother's lap or if you are a lone driver, sit him on your lap.

3. Mobile phones: only use them while driving. Journeys can be so boring and a good chat with your buddies provides a welcome distraction from everything else going on around you.

4. Seat position: if you are male, under 25 and drive any sort of Toyota or Nissan, then your seat should be near to horizontal so that you struggle to see over the steering wheel (which you must only clasp with one hand as the other is holding either your phone or cigarette). For anyone else, the only rule is that you must position your seat so that you can't see in any of your mirrors (if you are even aware they are there and serve other purposes than applying lip gloss).

5. Indicators: don't use them. All that pushing the lever up and down - such a waste of energy. And anyway, you know where you are going.

6. Parking: if you must park in a designated parking area, then make sure you park at such an angle that you take up at least three spaces. Otherwise, use pavements, garage entrances, verges, the hard shoulder and, on Fridays, the lane of the dual carriageway closest to the mosque.

7. Motorway driving: overtake or undertake - both are fine as long as you are exceeding the speed limit and then cut in front of the person in the next lane close enough to take out their front wing. Oh, and tailgating is de rigueur.

8. Roundabouts: always make sure you are in the wrong lane to exit so that you have to suddenly and dramatically cut across cars in the other lanes to reach your destination - without indicating, of course: see rule 5 above.

9. Traffic lights: if you are at the front of the queue for a red light, make sure you edge forward into the junction ahead so that you get the best possible racing start when the lights change. As soon as the lights are green, any car behind the lead car should honk its horn madly and incessantly in the hope that all the cars in front will instantly vapourise. And most importantly, never forget the 10-second-rule: once the lights turn red again, cars must continue through them for at least 10 seconds or risk the car behind ramming into them.

10. Road markings and signs: on the whole, it is best to ignore these. Drive the wrong way up that one-way street if it's your quickest route home; always drive into that yellow box to make sure you block rush hour traffic from all other directions; and never ever take any notice of chevrons or double yellow lines.

Good luck! You'll need it.

Adam's not coming home

I last posted about Adam Jones in November. 10-year-old Adam attends the same Bahrain school as my daughters. Last October he went to Qatar with his British mother, Rebecca, to visit the family of his late Qatari father. His 77-year-old Qatari grandmother was supposedly ill and wanted to see him.

During the visit, Adam's mother was asked by his uncle to sign some legal papers, ostensibly concerning property in Qatar. In fact, the papers were nothing to do with land but instead allowed the grandmother to file for custody of Adam, which she duly did.

Rebecca has been in Qatar ever since, fighting for Adam's return. She feared that if she left Qatar, she may not have been allowed to return. Her second husband, Barrie, has remained in Bahrain taking care of their four-year-old daughter.

The Qatari court awarded full custody to the grandmother in November and Rebecca was denied visitation rights. She immediately appealed the decision and was awarded visitation rights at the end of November, allowing her to see Adam twice a week. He was distraught when he discovered the truth of what had been happening. Up until that time he had been told he was staying in Qatar because of the swine flu scare in Bahrain.

Rebecca has received threats from locals in Qatar and the Qatari uncle has supposedly used his influence with the police to intimidate members of the court and Rebecca's Qatari sponsors, without whom she has no standing to bring a court case.

During the appeal process, the court heard from Adam for the first time. He said he wanted to come home to Bahrain with his mother. His wishes have been denied. Judges have now dismissed Rebecca's appeal against the custody order. Adam will remain with his Qatari family and Rebecca's visitation rights will be entirely at their discretion. Rebecca and her family are devastated.

Throughout her ordeal, there has been strong support for Rebecca in the English-speaking Bahraini press and from the Bahrain Human Rights Watch Society, which claims that by not properly considering Adam's wishes and welfare Qatar has breached the UN Convention on Rights of the Child, to which it is a signatory.

There have also been letters to the local English-speaking paper from people who have experienced similar custody battles, whether as parents or as children who were forced to leave their mothers to live with their father or their father's family. Rebecca and Adam's case is not unusual, particularly given the large number of Gulf residents who are married to expatriates.

The Qatari courts apply Sharia law, which generally awards custody of male children over a certain age to the father or, if he is unable to be custodian, to another of his family members. In particular the court considers the parents' religion, where they live and to whom they are married. Rebecca remarried without the consent of her former husband's family, resides in Bahrain and sends Adam to an international school - along with many other Arab children - and all this will have counted against her. However, whatever the court's guidelines, it will often make exceptions, particularly in cases in which a parent is from an influential family or has powerful connections in Qatar, as seems to have been the case here.

Custody battles are always distressing. Sharia law appears to favour the father, certainly in the case of boys. Although they are now adopting a more balanced approach, where joint custody couldn't be agreed, UK courts traditionally awarded custody to the mother, often resulting in loss of contact with the father. However, in the UK, the best interests of the child are paramount when considering any custody issue and where a child is old enough to express his wishes, he should be listened to. To me, this is where the Qatari decision has fallen down. Adam wants to go home to his mother; he has expressly said so in court. He should have been heard.

Rebecca now intends returning to the UK to commence proceedings under the UK court system. I wish her luck.

Technical problems

Sorry for the long silence; I have been having computer problems. Last week I went to switch on my laptop and nothing happened, no sign of life whatsoever. Just a black screen staring back at me.

This is something I dread for 2 reasons: first, I know nothing about computers. I am a member of techno-wizardry's "Lost Generation" - too old to have learned computing at school and having left full-time employment and the support of those nice guys in IT before I really had a chance to get to grips with anything remotely technological. Consequently I am totally reliant on others to fix any problems. Second, I live in Bahrain, where getting anything fixed efficiently, on-time and with minimum fuss is, quite frankly, impossible.

I set aside an entire morning for the task. The first challenge was finding the repair shop. When I lived in Australia, I used to laugh at the Aussie's lack of imagination when naming their streets and towns. Sandy Creek Road is a road next to a sandy creek, Mountain View Road is a road with a mountain view, and so on. But at least the Aussies bother to give their roads a name, even if they only select from a limited pool.

In Bahrain, unless the road is a six-lane highway - in which case it is named after the King or his father - it is not given a name at all. It is instead allocated a number. Then the district it is in is given another number. So, an address may read something like: Apartment 756, Building 333, Road 1230, Area 327. For Ian, who has difficulty remembering his 4-digit bank PIN code, remembering our address is impossible. Couple this with the fact that there is no such thing as a street directory and you begin to understand why going anywhere new becomes a nightmare.

I find the address of the Dell repair shop, which gives me absolutely no clue as to its location. I ring the shop and speak to a nice man called Umar who tells me the shop is behind the Kuwait Building in a part of town called Gudaibiya. I don't know where the Kuwait building is andUmar is not forthcoming. This is another problem - getting directions over the phone from someone whose first language is not your own and who frankly couldn't really care less whether you ever find their shop.

Some time and many u-turns later, I finally find myself in the Dell repair shop. Umar tells me I need a new motherboard. I don't know what a motherboard is, but it sounds important and my laptop is relatively new, so I'm cross. Umar smiles, shrugs his shoulders and tells me I've just been unlucky. Grrrrrrr.

"We have to order the part from Ireland," he says.

"How long will that take?" I ask.

Umar sucks in air through his teeth, shakes his head and tells me: "Four days, maybe five." He pauses, smiles and then adds: "Inshallah".

Ahhh, there it is, that word I dread hearing whenever I need to get something done: Inshallah, or "If Allah wills it."

Anyone who has lived in the Middle East knows that the word is liberally used by all repair men, or indeed anyone you ask to do anything. And in this context, particularly when followed by a knowing smile, means "in your dreams" or "not a hope in hell."

So when the plumber tells you he will be there this afternoon ... Inshallah, expect him next week and only then after you've made sixteen furious phone calls to his boss. When a parent at school tells you they'll pick up their daughter from a playdate at 4pm ... Inshallah, don't bank on them arriving until at least 6pm.

Inshallah - it's the ultimate get-out clause, said ever so politely, with a wry smile. Let's hope UK builders never latch on to it.

A world record and a royal wedding

The Kingdom is abuzz with excitement as Bahrain is on track for its first ever entry into the Guinness Book of World Records. What for? Well that's the bit that's not so exciting - it's for having the most signatories on a cyber electronic card. Yes, really.

"Royal wedding card may set record" ran the headline in the local press. More than 3000 well-wishers have so far signed an e-congratulations cybercard marking the marriage of Shaikh Nasser, the King's fourth son. Contacts are underway for this "unprecedented achievement" to be officially registered as a world record.

When I was a girl, I used to receive the latest copy of the Guinness Book of Records each Christmas and marvel over the world's tallest building, fastest athlete or fattest man (he was always the best photo) but I'm not sure as a 9-year-old I would have been even a teensy bit titillated to know which greeting card had the most signatures, cyber or otherwise.

Personally I am far more interested in the event which generated this record attempt - the Royal wedding. Shaikh Nasser is a good-looking bloke, sporty (he leads the Bahrain National Endurance Team in all matters equestrian), a poet (he's apparently published countless poems) and loaded (obviously).

If this had been Europe, his and his bride-to-be's faces would have been plastered on mugs, tea towels and postcards in every souvenir shop for months beforehand; there would have been endless analysis of the couple and their compatibility; and comprehensive TV coverage of The Big Day.

Yet I struggled to find anything about the wedding in the Bahrain press beyond a rather stuffy photograph of the groom, his father and his new father-in-law, Shaikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum, the Ruler of Dubai.

Of course, this being the Middle East, weddings are celebrated rather differently with separate, totally segregated, parties for the bride and the groom. Still, even if there was no picture of her, it would have been nice to at least know the bride's name, instead of her being only referred to in the press as "a daughter of Shaikh Mohammed."

Yet even as I felt my feminist hackles rising, I wondered whether - religious requirements aside - there was not some sense in keeping the identity of a Royal bride under wraps these days. The newly married couple will be guaranteed privacy to start their new life together, and the bride will not be constantly hounded by the press, derided for her dress sense, criticised for putting on weight/losing weight/changing her hair and all the other things Diana and her ilk have had to put up with.

And hopefully, she won't end up being pursued by paps and driven to her death in a Parisian tunnel.

Double celebration

This weekend was a double celebration in our household: it was our 11th wedding anniversary and the end of Ramadan.

According to a friend of mine, 11 years is your steel anniversary - presumably because that's what you need nerves of to get this far in matrimony.

Neither Ian nor I are very good at remembering our anniversary, but luckily Isabelle and Olivia had elaborate plans in place to make up for our shortcomings. Isabelle ensured Ian was given an anniversary card out of her private hand-made collection on which to write suitable sweet-nothings and Olivia was in cahoots with him to buy flowers and lay a special anniversary dinner table.

Bahrain's preparations for Eid (the holiday at the end of Ramadan) were no less elaborate. Timing is crucial. The start of the three day holiday depends on four criteria being fulfilled. According to the vice-president of the Bahrain Astronomical Society these are:"...first, the moon must be born before the sunset, secondly it must be seen after sunset, thirdly the epoch of the calculations must be at Mecca, and fourthly the moon must be witnessed by people". Yes, I was confused too. For the fourth requirement, Bahrain has an imaginatively-named moon sighting committee.

Quaint as all this moon searching is, it does cause organisational problems. School calendars have entries like "Eid holiday starts - probably", which makes holiday planning a bit tricky.

For Muslims, the holiday is a time for great celebration when family and friends to get together, and wish each other "Eid Mubarak!" (Happy Eid). Children traditionally receive the "Eidiah" - a gift of money - from family, friends and neighbours.

I had a hair appointment on Sunday (the first day of Eid). The salon I use is owned by the daughter of a prominent local businessman and it was full of the females in her family being primped, preened and plucked in preparation for the festivities ahead.

Arab women take their grooming extremely seriously; most of them looked more polished when they entered the salon than I did when I left it. I thought the French and Belgians were beauty addicts - hairdressers in Brussels seem to outnumber all other professions - but Bahraini and Saudi ladies are in a different league. My appointment was at 10am and there was already more Prada and Jimmy Choo in the room than on an Oscar red carpet.

My hairdresser (an Aussie) took great delight in whispering a running who's-who commentary of the great and the good coming into the salon. The anecdote of the morning was the story of the lost watch. Apparently one of these poor ladies had misplaced her timepiece the previous week and thought she may have left it in the salon. It was gold with lots of diamonds - bling is big here - and a gift from her father. Estimated value? BD 14,000 (around GBP 22,700). Not really the sort of item you leave lying around while having your weekly mani-pedi then.

Ramadan Kareem!

The Holy Month of Ramadan, when Muslims believe Allah revealed his Holy law to the Prophet Muhammed, is drawing to a close.

During Ramadan, Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset. The fasting is designed to focus attention on Allah and to bring home the plight of the poor and hungry. The whole pace of the Kingdom changes. People start work later (to allow them to have another nap after taking their breakfast or "Suhoor" at about 4.30am) and finish earlier - around 2pm - because by then they are so exhausted from eating and drinking nothing all day in searing temperatures that the only thing they are fit for is bed.

The fast is broken after the "Maghrib" prayers at sunset. The meal taken at this time is called "Iftar", and traditionally consists of a few dates followed by a wholesome soup or stew. Later in the evening, usually around 9 or 10pm, people meet for a "Ghabga" or "gathering" and a more substantial meal. This is a chance to catch up with friends and family. Mosques offer Iftar in their courtyards, especially for the under-privileged and most companies and societies have some sort of ghabga during the month. Here I am with my friend, Jane, heading off to meet other friends for a ghabga in the Ramadan tent at the Novotel. The buffet was sumptuous with extensive hot and cold mezzahs, biryanis and shawarmas, all washed down with juice or soft drinks (the only downside).

During Ramadan no-one is allowed to serve food or drink during the day (so all the restuarants and coffee shops are closed) and anyone caught eating or drinking in public gets a stern warning from the police. Some poor bloke was arrested last week for lighting a cigarette in public. He claims he forgot it was Ramadan. I have resorted to crouching down in the car for furtive sips of water while out and about.

I find the whole fasting thing amazing. Bahrainis must have incredible willpower. This is not some poxy 2-day detox. This is a whole month. Not everyone fasts, of course. Children, the sick, the elderly, and pregnant or menstruating women are exempted. For others, it is a personal choice. I was visiting an Iraqi friend last week and she offered me a glass of vino at 3pm - which was welcome as we have run out of white wine and no more will be on sale until after Ramadan finishes. Neither she nor her family fast, she told me. Nor do many of her friends. She tried it once when she was in her teens. Never again.

Yet many do fast for the entire month. I overheard a Bahraini woman at the girls' gym class yesterday describing how she was suffering from the most debilitating headaches each day as she was so dehydrated. Although she did not drink anything, she did allow herself to crunch a paracetemol now and again to get through the day.

It's the labourers I really feel for. Stuck out in the heat of the day, they must work without food or drink. Despite not having to work during the two or three hottest hours, I don't know how more of them don't keel over with heatstroke or worse.

Shopping hours also change during Ramadan, with shops closed in the afternoon and then re-opening in the early evening until at least 11pm. Shopping malls are packed until well after midnight, with loads of activities for kids and music and entertainment. All to ensure that everyone has a happy Ramadan - or Ramadan Kareem!

Back to school - at last

School re-opened yesterday. At last. Thankfully the relevant Ministries in Bahrain have not gone the way of those in Oman, where primary schools are now closed until December because of the swine flu epidemic.

The girls were a bit nervous; new school and all that. Here they are in their new uniforms.


By the time we reached their new classrooms, we were all somewhat more disheveled. The humidity was so high that the apparent temperature yesterday was 50 degrees. Yes, 50 degrees! It's hard trying to play the part of the Yummy Mummy when your hair is in frizzy corkscrew curls, your make-up is streaming down your face and you have large wet patches all over your torso.

When I got home (and got changed), I read the story of Fawziya Abdullah Youssef in the local paper. Fawziya was from Yemen. When she was 11, her father married her to a 24-year-old man who works in Saudi Arabia. She has just died giving birth to a stillborn after a difficult delivery. She was 12.

All of which puts into sharp perspective any jitters my girls may have been feeling about their first day at their swanky new private school.

To burqa or not to burqa?

That is the question currently being debated in the letters page of our local rag, following Nicholas Sarkozy's recent controversial comments.

I thought it would be interesting to give you some snippets of the debate.

A recent letter claimed the burqa is liberating and that the veil simply covers and guards modesty. It is a symbol of total submission to God, not subjugation to husbands, fathers or society. The same writer went on to claim that actually Muslim women are more free than those in the West, because we literally starve ourselves to fit into skimpy outfits just to look appealing to men. A Muslim woman's image or self-esteem, so the writer claims, is not governed by what men think of her looks, since she is not a commodity for display and pleasure. The burqa covers the body but not a woman's brains.

There was an almost frenzied response to this viewpoint. Muslim women, claimed the burqa-objectors, have very little freedom compared to Western societies. The laws here in Bahrain (and other countries are worse) favour men hands down - no freedom to remove yourself from an abusive marriage, no freedom to retain the rights to children after divorce, no freedom to live alone and make decisions about your own life. Just because Western women do not cover themselves, does not mean they are immoral or immodest.

And so the debate raged on. And in the midst of all this indignation, the iconic King of Pop, Michael Jackson, died. How are these two issues connected? Well, for those of you who didn't know, Michael Jackson made Bahrain his home for a time a few years ago, to escape the furore surrounding him after child abuse allegations. As we all know, he was paranoid about privacy and covering his face in public, and what better means to use than the burqa? Here he is at one of our local shopping malls in 2006. Now that really is wierd..........

Weekends and water parks

Last weekend we took a family outing to the Lost Paradise of Dilmun waterpark - or LPOD, to those in the know.

While the girls certainly loved the slides, boat rides and rafts, the most bizarre aspect of the whole day was how LPOD seemed to be Paradise Found to large swathes of local lads in their late teens/early twenties, who congregated there from mid-afternoon.

It was hard to understand the attraction. The rides, while fun, were hardly of the white knuckle variety normally favoured by young blokes, and of course they weren't there to ogle the nubile young local lasses in bikinis, as their religion forbids them from fraternising with the opposite sex and from uncovering in public. In fact the only female bodies on show belonged to expat mothers, like me, well past their prime. And they obviously weren't there for the booze.

All became clearer a bit later on, when the girls wanted a go in the wave pool. We could barely get in for the large groups of Arab youths. Suddenly a DJ at the other end of the pool started up some local pop music at full blast and the lads all began swaying, dancing and singing with each other.

Bizarre as it may seem, this was clearly their answer to a lads' night out and they were loving it. Each to their own..............

East meets West?

Saw this sign the other day and had to laugh.

Seems the locals don't like a lot about wayward western culture, but clearly no-one can resist a Big Mac.

Beware of overspending......

A Saudi judge has told a seminar on domestic violence that it is OK for a man to slap his wife for lavish spending. 

According to the judge, if a wife buys an expensive abaya with money given to her by her husband and if the husband smacks her on the face as a reaction to her action, she deserves that punishment.

I knew there was a reason I don't show Ian the credit card bills. 

Alcohol ban

Tuesday was a bad day for boozers.

The Kingdom's MPs have voted unanimously in favour of a proposed blanket ban on alcohol. Under the proposal, bars and restaurants will be banned from serving alcohol. Hotel guests may only be served alcohol in their rooms.

We will still be allowed to drink at home, but will only be able to buy booze from specially licensed home delivery companies.

Hotel and restaurant owners are in uproar. The Adliya area, where we live, houses many of the Kingdom's top restaurants and has recently undergone a massive facelift. It'll all be a complete waste of money if no-one uses the restaurants any more.

Nearly a quarter of the country's working population is apparently employed in the hospitality industry, so the ban, if imposed, will have massive repurcussions. Foreign investment will also be affected with what many now see as as the increasing "Islamicism" of the country.

One leading Bahraini businessman was quoted as saying that although Bahrain was an Islamic country, it was also part of the global village and should not impose Islamic views on all. "It's all about mutual respect", he said.

The MPs have other ideas. According to them , alcohol is fuelling the vice trade and turning the whole country into a brothel. A quote from one of them: "We will accept failure in the economy if alcohol is banned..."

They may have to.

The proposal must now go to the Cabinet, which has the power to reject it. It remains to be seen whether or not they will.

In the meantime, I'm off for a glass of vino ...........CHEERS!

Chastity Saudi style

Saudi Arabia's top cleric has called on Saudi girls to remain chaste in the face of liberals who want to westernise Saudi lifestyles.

"They want her to be unveiled, moving about and travelling on her own, getting involved in relationships with whoever she wants and calling whoever she wants to start up friendships with whoever she wants" the Grand Mufti was quoted as saying.

Anyone interested in an account of how young women in Saudi manage to get over such repressive restrictions should pick up a copy of the novel "Girls of Riyadh" by Rajaa Alsanea. It's certainly an illuminating read.

Swine flu fever

There has been much press coverage here, as elsewhere, of swine flu.

Special checks have been set up at the airport. The pharmacies have reported a run on Tamiflu and face masks, although many women have fully covered faces anyway. Locals are being encouraged not to kiss when they greet each other, as is the custom between men. The Government has set up a hotline to update people on developments.

Luckily there are as yet no reported cases. And all of the measures taken seem sensible.

However, the illness is also being used by some to reignite the issue of whether sales of pork should be allowed in the Kingdom.

Muslims do not eat pork for religious reasons. At present, pork and products containing pork (it's amazing how many items do) are on sale in most major supermarkets, but in a separate room, hidden from view. A bit like x-rated magazines in a newsagent.

Pork imports are currently banned due to swine flu and once again there are calls in the papers for a permanent ban.

Stocks are running down. We are having a bbq at the weekend so I hot-footed it down to the supermarket today to stock up on snags. Who knows how long it will be before we can get more?

And so we face the prospect of future barbies with no wine, no beer and no snags. Now that's just not cricket.