by R. A. Lang
On my last night in Delft, my friends had arranged a farewell party in Sonja’s bar. Myrthe had gone to the trouble of cooking very nice Indonesian food for all to eat as part of the get-together. Unbeknown to me at the time, they had secretly got together on the Sunday afternoon prior to my departure to make some team photos, which they had framed behind glass and presented, to me on the night. They had even attached two pairs of little wooden Dutch ‘clogs’ to hang down over the front of the frame!
To add to my rather emotional farewell, Sonja’s mother and father also joined the party. They were such lovely people and Sonja’s father was a famous glass blower, and his products were well known in Holland and extremely valuable. Her father came over to me and began to explain that during his manufacturing career he had only ever made one dolphin.
During his detailed explanation, it was clear that the one and only dolphin he had ever made was a prized possession of his. With no further ado, he carefully un-wrapped the package he was holding and presented me with his dolphin. I felt quite choked to receive such a beautiful keepsake from Delft and it will be something I will always keep on display, but in a very safe place.
After a few weeks I secured a new contract back in the Middle East.
Chapter 27
Kurdistan
In April of 2013 I went to Kurdistan, an oil and gas rich region of northern Iraq. My first impression was how nice the people were in Kurdistan, quite comparable to Europeans. Erbil can proudly boast to having the oldest city in the world, the ‘Citadel’, which dates back over six thousand years and was under restoration at the time to bring it back to its former glory.
Erbil was a peaceful city and there weren’t any real security issues for several months. That said, as an expat in a foreign country with a history which included war, I didn’t advertise my presence anywhere. I avoided trips to the popular souks and other attractions. Instead, I travelled to and from the office every day and only made a brief visit to a nearby hotel on a Friday night with a couple of Dutch colleagues.
Sadly, things did seem to hot up as Al Qaeda moved up north, as there wasn’t much more they could destroy down south in Baghdad and other areas. It was a sudden reminder when five car bombs exploded not far from the office I worked. Two of the car bombs were disguised as ambulances, which I felt was extremely distasteful, but the insurgents didn’t seem to have any limits. A convoy of crude oil tankers were also stopped and their drivers beheaded on the roadside by their fellow Muslims. We could only imagine if we had also been stopped.
Fortunately it didn’t last long and there were no more instances until a shoot-out down the road in Kirkuk, which was televised live on Kurdish TV. The Kurdish people were not about to entertain any more mistreatment after what they’d already been through years earlier. The Peshmerga, who were their original freedom fighters and now their official national guard, managed to kill all twelve of the insurgents in a long street fight, which they’d televised for all to see.
After working for four months it was time for me to have a break. I hadn’t seen Wi since December so I decided to return back to Bangkok to see how she and little Booboo were doing. I arrived just a week before my birthday and rented a room in the same hotel as the last time, as small dogs were allowed to stay. Naturally, we needed to use the service lift so the other guests wouldn’t see Booboo, but that was fine. So Booboo was also on holiday.
We had made arrangements for Wi’s father to fly down and join us for my two week visit. I hadn’t seen him since our wedding day and wanted to see how the seventy-six-year-old was doing. He enjoyed his stay, as there were so many new experiences for him, even though it was in his own country.
He hadn’t eaten sushi before, nor pizza, curry or Italian food, so every day we’d take him somewhere different. A Thai friend arranged for us to go on a day fishing trip just outside Bangkok where I managed to catch eight large catfish before giving up exhausted, but Wi’s father continued until he’d caught twelve of them.
After a pleasant break, it was back to Kurdistan and business as usual. I decided not to leave it quite so long before taking my next break, but that time was to return to Wales for a couple of weeks and see my mother. As usual, two weeks went very fast and I returned back to work via Dubai, as I needed to have a TV interview with Marine Biz TV.
The interview was to create enough footage for a twenty-two minute final cut documentary about my life in the oil and gas industry. There was a lot to discuss and the final outcome was two thirty-minute interviews which the TV company broadcasted all over the world.
The first interview regarded my thoughts on working both onshore and offshore and advice for new recruits thinking to work offshore. The second interview was focused on the murder attempt made on me in Kazakhstan and the dramatic effect voodoo had on me, which changed my plans for continuing my life on the Caribbean island.
The company I was contracted to in Kurdistan was allocated an unlucky ‘block’ by the ministry of natural resources, so after drilling several oil wells they decided it wasn’t going to be a sustainable investment after all and disbanded their team. So it was back to Wales for me until my next overseas contract.
After working seven days a week for nine months, I was feeling tired by then in any case, so it was somewhat a sad result from visiting Iraq, but the much needed rest was welcome. The people were very nice in Kurdistan and all the problems were not their own doing. I sincerely hope that one day, the problems will all come to an end and the country can return to its former glory.
Chapter 28
Malta
After leaving Iraq earlier than planned, I made a visit back to Delft in Holland to visit my Dutch friends. During my two week visit I was receiving many work inquiries so I figured I’d soon be contracted on another overseas contract.
The contracts didn’t materialise so in March of 2014, I flew to Malta to stay in Qawra for a month, as it had been nine years since I’d last visited the island. It was a perfect opportunity to rewrite this book as its first edition contained many mistakes from its original American publisher’s editorial proof read, which they had had done in the Philippines!
The proof read was disastrous as this manuscript was rewritten in a form of English new to me. There are still mistakes, which I have since missed, but they’re hard to pick up on a computer screen.
On my first day, I needed to look for somewhere I could have a traditional English breakfast to start each day. The first place I found was across the road from my hotel called ‘Images’, which was owned by a half-Maltese, half-English man called Mark with his partner Vanessa from Wales.
Mark was well known on that part of the island and his bar was famous for its karaoke nights. Mark’s proud boast was that he could sing all the well-known songs ever written. I continued to visit ‘Images’ every morning for a good meal before starting my day. Mark was also a great asset to visiting tourists with organising tourist trips on both the main island, Gozo and even across to Sicily.
On my second day on the island, I found an alluring wine bar, boutique and café called ‘Bella Bar’ close to my hotel in Qawra, which I also began to visit every day. The venue was perfect with its relaxing background music, fast Wi-Fi and friendly atmosphere. As I sat down, a tall slim lady with a foreign accent began by serving me an Italian coffee, while I opened my laptop. Her name was Livia and she was from Hungary, living on the island together with her Hungarian husband and cat.
Later that day I was introduced to the owner, Susan, who was originally from Glasgow, Scotland. Susan explained that her husband was currently overseas on business in the Philippines, but due to return in a few days. That Sunday, I got to meet him. Susan introduced me to Chris later that afternoon who was originally from Sweden. Despite Chris’s jetlag, he chose to spend the rest of the day in their bar and we both had a lot to talk about.
Chris explained in great detail the advantages of living on the island, and I began wondering why I had ever bought a house
in the Caribbean, so far from Europe and also from home. I began to think if I’d originally purchased a property in Malta, I would have avoided all the hell I’d been through, meeting Haitian and Ronnie, and all the other deceitful people on that Dutch Caribbean island.
As an added bonus of living in Qawra, there was a spa just across the road called ‘Soul Solutions’, which was owned by a lady from Dublin in the Republic of Ireland by the name of Tracy. Tracy had a strong character and was most entertaining with her vibrant Irish twang. I’d occasionally visit Tracy’s spa to receive revitalising holistic therapy and reflexology, which refreshed me and gave added energy to continue working while on the island.
It’s still a slight culture shock being back in the company of genuine and civilised people; such a change from what I’d been used to, especially after some events I should not have survived, which I can finally start to put behind me.
For now, I will continue travelling around the world, visiting and experiencing new cultures, and later write a sequel to better explain what became of Andy.
Thank you!
Copyright
Published by Clink Street Publishing 2014
Copyright © R.A. Lang 2014
First edition.
The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
ISBN: 978–1–909477–20–9
Ebook: 978–1–909477–21–6
