With the bike on its way to Jordan and my residency cancelled, it's my penultimate day in Kuwait. I've already booked a 14:30 flight to Amman in Jordan for the next day and need to tie up the last few loose ends. I head into the office to collect my passport and clear the last remaining emails from my work laptop. I also need to see a dear colleague, Rose, who's been doing a little bit of Arabic translation for me. From her name it may be guessed that Rose isn't Kuwaiti, she's not even Arab but from an Armenian family, born in Jordan, and has lived in Kuwait for around 30 years. She speaks, writes and understands Arabic like a native, indeed better than many overseas-educated Kuwaitis, and is one of the loveliest people it's been my pleasure to meet.
Reckoning I could well hit a border or two where English might not be even the second or third language, I've pulled together a little poster, double-sided A4, with my blog picture (above) on one side and a brief description of what I'm doing on the other, mentioning the Red Cross/Red Crescent sponsorship and bearing their respective logos. Rose has already sent me her Arabic translation (and didn't charge me £15 for the job either!), but when I did a cut and paste into my poster, my non-Arabic configured laptop jumbled all the words making it jibberish. I need to ask Rose to do the transfer on her computer and save the document to a memory stick so I can get copies printed. I also have another version of the poster with the text in Russian, very kindly provided by my mate Steve's wife, Zarina, who's from Kyrgyzstan. No, I haven't added Russia to my itinerary, but as Steve pointed out, the Cyrillic script will be easily understood as I wend my way up through the Balkan countries.
The folks in the office seem pleased to see me, which is heartening, and interested in my progress. Rose also reveals they've organised a farewell breakfast for me next day at 08:30 at a favourite coffee shop opposite the office. "Eight-thirty?" I joke, "that's not breakfast, that's a wake-up call!" But of course I'm honoured and promise to do my best to be there on time.
We have some trouble adjusting the Arabic text to fit in my poster layout but get it fixed in the end. As it's the end of the working day, Rose kindly offers to drop me at a suitable print shop where I can get copies made and which is conveniently near a forex office where I can buy some currency for the first few countries on my route. We also have tentative plans to meet later for something to eat and smoke sheesha with Rose and her lovely Lebanese husband Basem along with John (a fellow Jock and a mate), the company HR guy who's visiting from the Dubai office. Steve and Zarina also want to see me before I leave so I fix to get everybody together at a popular Lebanese restaurant called Mais Al Ghanem on Arabian Gulf Street near the British Embassy.
I get my dollars, dinars and pounds (Syrian and Lebanese) and a few copies of my poster printed. It's getting close to 7:00 pm and I am due back at Shuwaikh, yet again, to collect my papers and their translations. A taxi gets me there only 15 minutes late and I ask him to wait. The GM is all smiles but my evident exasperation at his "Translation not ready" changes this and he gets on the phone, apparently pushing them to deliver. He tells me to come back, boukra, at 12:00, but I shake my head and say I'm flying to Jordan at 14:30 so have to be at the airport by then. All is confusion for a while, but luckily another 'customer' arrives who can speak English and we fix the problem. I'm told to come back to Saif at 10:00 tomorrow and Mr Amer himself will drive me in his car to get the papers. I think I'm expected to be impressed, but have difficulty in hiding my disappointment. This at least results in me being given contact details for Saif's clearing agent in Jordan – something else I've been requesting for days. I leave and head off in my taxi, late, for the restaurant.
Being American, Steve and Zarina are already there. Not being American (though they do have US passports) Rose and Basem arrive later with John in tow. But it's a lovely evening and everyone gets on just fine. Steve has an early start in the morning so he and Zarina, who even made me a lovely farewell card, head off first. It's quite emotional, but we have a date for next year when they are coming to the UK to attend the Isle of Man TT - bikers eh?
The rest of us sit around chatting, eating and puffing on sheesha pipes for a while longer, then Rose and Basem drop John at his hotel and me at home for my last night in Kuwait.
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