Well, we're heading home, Mr. Muscato and I, but this snap from this afternoon is distinctly more scenic than the airport lounge in which we find ourselves at the moment, so let it stand as an indication of how lovely our weekend has been. The Bahrain boys flew out earlier this afternoon, so we had a nostalgic last evening to ourselves, revisiting old haunts and even pulling up outside the Villa Muscato 1.0, which is looking well (if, we couldn't help fancying, just the tiniest bit forlorn without us).
So tomorrow it's back to reality in that other, definitely less festive corner of the Sandlands, but every day brings us closer to the end of our Arabian idyll altogether. Being here these past few days has made our seven years in these parts feel very short indeed, but I'm glad we've had the chance to reconfirm that our old haunts are just as pleasant as memory has painted them. There's not much, I have to say (Mrs. Galapatti-da Silva aside) we'll miss from our current venue, so it's good to leave with pleasant memories uppermost in mind.