Went shopping. Pat has booked a taxi for four of us. We go to the closest up-market place, about half an hour’s drive away. Big shopping mall. Looks very modern. Could almost be home, except when you look at the people. All the women in their black outfits, fully covered, and the men in their white robes with red headscarves. It looks totally surreal. The women huddle together in groups and the men strut around as if they own the goddamn earth. We manage to get coffee and a cinnamon bun, and then its prayer-time. Shops close in an instant. Nothing to do but wait. Half an hour goes by. Shops open and we make it into the next store. Enjoy browsing. No VAT. Makes a big difference. Everything seems affordable. Out one store and on our way to the next. Before we even get there, its prayer-time. Again! Shops close. This time for an hour. Fuck it! How the hell do they ever manage to get anything done! Finally manage to buy some cheap junk to brighten up my villa. The whole expedition has taken five hours. Once again, I'm exhausted. So much for retail therapy!
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