The Backpacker

People will ask questions. It is their right. Unfortunately they ask all the wrong questions or questions guarenteed to get your goat up. Ask me. I am a standing example of what will happen to a person who has been forced to answer questions that have no answer.

Like yesterday.

Recently I did a short business-cum-pleasure trip to Fujairah. After speaking with fishermen unceremoniously banned from selling fish, I decided to make the best of the short trip to this emirate. The result of which, in my own valuable opinion, was excellent. Well, I did come back with some great pictures to last me thorugh the time I would spend away from the mind boggling place.

The post-Fujairah effects were just about receeding when a wise guy, leaning over my shoulder and peeping into my pic gallery on my computer threw this question.

"You have been to Fujairh?"

No. That was my alter ego posing by the sea, for God's sake. I clearly have no idea what he was driving at and I suspect he did not either but that question did annoy me no end. But I know what it did to me. I felt as though my nerve had been extracted (without being anesthetised) and the whole of US Army had marched over it.

Even now I am wondering if questions need to be asked? Are we so dumb as not to know "a thing" when we see one?

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