I lost my bathing suit in Riyadh, and our friendly guide Ziad just showed up at my door with a bright green replacement that does a terribly inadequate job of concealing my thunder. The past few days have been quite gastronomically intense, replete with breakfast buffets, traditional Saudi dinners, and multiple servings of camel, ostrich and beef sausage.
I'm not a very flexible person (my sit and reach score in high school was a negative number), and everyone had a good laugh watching me try to sit cross-legged around the 6'' high traditional serving table (I failed). I managed to make it through the meal assuming a similar pose to Michael Jackson on the cover of the thriller album (http://aftm.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/michael_jackson-thriller-cover.jpg). Once I had all my limbs in their proper alignment, I found I really enjoyed the cozy intimacy of the arrangement and getting to know more about our hosts Ziad and Saad. However, the added poundage from all these dinners coupled with the unfamiliar seating positions have placed and unanticipated burden on my spine. Oh well, the food is awesome.
Tonight we kept the epicurean train rolling at a Brazilian steakhouse, followed by an evening smoking apple-flavored sheesha tobacco, which is healthy because apple is fruit and fruit has vitamins. Good night Jeddah, you're alright in my book.
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