A Birthday in Riyadh…

is definitely something to remember. Or, at least, this one was.

For those of you out there that don’t know, 31st August is my birthday and probably for the first time ever, at least that I can remember, I was going to be spending it alone and in a strange country.

Originally, CC and IC had invited me around for dinner on Virtual Saturday (Real Thursday), but when I last spoke to CC on Real Wednesday afternoon, he mentioned dinner on Virtual Sunday. Something should have told me that something was up. As it was, I was doing nothing on Virtual Sunday evening, so it was fine by me.

I organised a limousine from the hotel to take me to the compound where they live (as do all westerners here) and arrived outside the barbed-wire enclosed walled compound at just before 6pm, signed in and left my drivers licence at the gate as proof of identity. You need multiple forms of identity in this country and sometimes multiple copies of those to leave at various places (I’ll post something about the hassle you need to go through to get your “Iqama” – work visa (pronounced “Ick-ama”) – if you want to officially work here, at a later stage). I’m here on a visitors visa, the way they get around the whole visa thing without having to apply for an Iqama for me.

CC meets me on the walkway down to their apartment, a neat little duplex unit built, like the others around it, in Spanish Mediterranean style. Theirs is number 97 which will give you an idea of the size of these compounds.

After a quick look around the place, which is littered with flat screen TVs which are quite cheap here (though I don’t know how I would get one home without exceeding baggage weight limits), CC asks if I’d like a drink. I’d heard about his “Arabian Grape Juice” and so eagerly agreed, seeing as it would be my first drink in just under two weeks and I was gagging for one. Maybe it was just because of the timeframe since my last drink, but the rose-coloured “grape juice” tasted like a ZAR500 Shiraz. In all honesty, it was quite palatable and, I suppose, being in an environment such as this, if you’re desperate enough you’ll brew and drink your own, regardless of what it tastes like. CC had two twenty litre plastic water bottles on his kitchen counter full of the stuff, one of which was still fermenting.

We go and sit outside on the little patio, overlooking the pool, and drink our juice, chatting about all different subjects from family to places we’ve been or would like to go. CC and IC have been in Saudi Arabia (and the other Gulf states) for a number of years and enjoy it as they’re making good money which they are using to pay off their retirement villa in Spain (topping up the retirement policy as they put it). CC had gone on early retirement a couple of years ago, but decided to come out of it when he was offered a good job here, making lots of tax-free money. Perhaps it’s an opportunity for us too, but it’ll need serious discussion with Steph as I would not like to bring a woman here due to the limitations they have on the female species (not allowed to drive, must wear an Abaya (black robe) in public, the heat, and so on…).

After three glasses of juice, we move down to the compound restaurant. Again, each of the compounds has their own restaurant, catering for the western tastes in cuisine. They have a reasonable menu and at reasonable prices too. CC and I settle on the “special”, a medium-rare 300g Prime Rib cutlet, while IC has a chicken dish. The meat is a little tough, but it’s still quite tasty. CC had brought along a two litre plastic bottle of the juice and we had a couple more glasses during the meal. The Phillippino waiters are all in on the game and know exactly what’s in the bottle and have all been sworn to secrecy by way of a reasonable tip at the end of each meal. There are people from numerous western countries in this compound so they must be making a fortune.

After our meal, our waiter starts moving our dessert spoons and forks out of the way which tells me something is up. Then, from the kitchen, comes our waiter with a chocolate cake holding three lit candles and then I know that Steph has been in contact with CC.

Later, CC told me that Steph had sent him an email on Real Wednesday afternoon, told him it was my birthday and asked what he could do to make it special.

I had been feeling a little lonely earlier in the day seeing as I was on my own and had only been able to swap text messages with family and friends, but this made me feel a whole lot better. We each had a slice of the cake then asked the waiter to ask the few other people left in the restaurant if they would like a slice as well. One French guy even came in later and thanked us for the cake, asking whose birthday it was.

A quick double espresso later, and at 10pm, I had to catch my limousine back to the hotel, quite happy with the way the day had evolved. I have to thank CC and IC for making the day special, but special thanks must go to Steph who told Chris about it.

Steph really is a special person…