Late this afternoon, a kind Emirati fellow we met at our hotel/home invited us out to his desert camel farm for the evening. As a result, a group of us caravaned an hour or so deep into the sand waves. Here B stands on the crest of what is tantamount to a North Shore-sized wave. Only these gritty sand swells move eons slower than their salty wet counterparts. GEOLOGY PEOPLE!
Our host decided that we would feast on Roast Goat. Why do all delicious animals have to be so cute? Oh why damn you! (repeatedly slamming fist into floor) Note the insanely adorable long ears.
This is our host, Mr. Zayed's humble desert retreat. Twas explained to me that even the most pimped out oil-soaked Emiratis are happiest when they can just chill with their kin folk out in the desert. It is the Bedouin life. Tending camels from a simple palm frond hut out in the sand waves. The black cording wrapped around the hut are irrigation lines that bleed droplets of water down the interior walls, keeping it damp and about 10 degrees cooler than the bag-sticking outside temp.
That cute little bugger sure tasted good. I used his floppy ear for a taco shell (kidding). Tear off a piece of homemade flat-bread and envelope some tender meat inside. Grab the Goat you Goat Grabbers. Deliciousity ensued. Thank you Goat.
After all was said and done, a generator-powered TV and DVD kit was pulled from the hut out onto the sand. Here, Mr. Mohammad (wealthy Mr. Zayed's man-helper) watches the latest Bollywood crap-o-rama.
Side note: The two bowls next to the TV table were filled with fresh camel's milk. It was rich and frothy and tasted a little sweet.
