Friend Ollie has decided that it's time to leave the Kingdom, and furthermore that the only sensible way to do it is to drive to Finland. Naturally, I'm looking forward to see how that goes, so I'll be accompanying him as for as Amman. (Spoiler: it doesn't fall apart until after I've left the party).

The start of the trip is actually at a beach in Jeddah, for diving. At the end of the day, we get in the motor for the three hour drive to Yanbu where our hotel awaits.

Look, there's a reason the Mövenpick in Yanbu is mostly empty, and it's not the moat. The service here is horrible. They refuse to honour the deal we booked and fob us off with something substantially more expensive.

We've got a dive trip organised for the morrow (who'd have thought it?). The opening entertainment appears when we come across a barge. They're charged with laying a temporary buoy with no nav or depth sounder to position it. After our captain helps out, they drop it upside down. We grab it and right it by towing it around in circle for about ten minutes.

Dive one is at Caesarian Reef. The 26 degree water is properly chilly. It's a brutal bash into the current, giving us only 33 minutes of air. The water is clear, although the wildlife is elusive.

The wind and waves settle for dive two, which is more of a problem because doing less exercise means I start getting colder. The pinnacle isn't much to write home about, and by the end of the dive I'm vowing to invest in a wetsuit. The other diver here without one (and it's total coincedence he's a Scot) makes the same decision.

Our dive buddies for the day let us know of a restaurant, and we ask for the hotel's help to reach it. Sadly, they decide to mislead us about the distance and the cost of taxi there in a transparent move to keep our spending at the hotel. It's actually dead easy, and we're soon nomming on industrial-strength curry.

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