Greetings from our Jewel of the Gulf, where you will arrive at our International Airport of world renown to a whirlwind of, well, dust.
It has been seventy-odd years since oil was discovered under our fecund isle, but as this is now running dry, we have decided to create an oasis of tourist delight in our sand-enriched land.
To help us maintain the illusion of desert hospitality we have invited our Saudi neighbours to visit us every weekend in their roaring 4x4s, to convince our citizens that the building of the Formula 1 track has paid massive dividends to the people and economy of this sceptred isle.
The King Faisal causeway has surely enabled a gateway for our more strictly-monitored brothers across the channel to enjoy whisky and whores in an unfettered environment which allows us to benefit from their continuing oil revenues.
While we have to revert to our traditional import-export business of slaves from East Africa and Calicut, our splendid robe-clad brethren from the Arabian hinterland can continue to enjoy our massive hypocritical welcome for their diminishing riyals.
For any of you poor British reading this you should be glad that our petrol pumps will fill your tanks for roughly five quid, which even our US partners find eye-wateringly cheap. The screech of a Ferrari tyre in the hand of a drunken Saudi is a joy to the ear of the residents of the Ritz-Carlton as they await the next motor race at our stunning desert venue.
Should the sands of the desert stray far from my keyboard, I shall be updating you soon on the superb property opportunities in this land of sun, sand and, er....sand.
Inshallah.
1 comment:
Brian, maybe you should consider writing for a living!!!! :)
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