Burqalicious Bonus! Deleted Pics…

9 Mar

So, here it is. The latest in my series of deleted entries! Not so much an entry, this one – more a series of photos that there wasn’t room for in the book. If you haven’t read it yet, GET CRACKING, but if you have, you can look at these along with the part about the Iransion, when Stacey and I set up camp unwittingly on an Iranian inventor’s landing. Ah, memories. We stuck it out for a good four or five months I think, creeping in and out of his massive villa, trying not to piss ourselves every time we saw the fleet horse sitting on the driveway. This is it, in colour:

The fleet horse is an invention powered by… yup, a horse. He stands on that little treadmill there inside, behind the driver. I think the vehicle (if it can be called that?!) has a little motor too, but mostly it just moves when the horse starts to walk. Its awesomeness still astounds me, it really does. I often wonder what he’s done with it. You can still see his website here! I don’t think that’s a real horse in the photo, by the way… he must have just superimposed it in there for the picture’s sake, but you get the idea. He fricking LOVED this invention. There’s a piccy of it in the book of course, but I don’t think black and white does it justice.

Anyway, in the book I’ve also mentioned the inventor’s artistic streak. In the days when he wasn’t tending lovingly to the marketing of the fleet horse, he was creating beautiful works of art that he liked to dot about the villa. We lived in a room off his landing upstairs (he had the whole bottom floor), and we’d often come home to find new pieces stuck to the walls. To set the scene, here’s the landing we lived on:

Beautiful isn’t it? He really made it very homely for us. And you can probably see the poster of the children on our bedroom door there? In case you can’t, here’s a close up:

We often thought he might have stuck it there as a representation of Stacey and I, two roaming orphans at a crossroads in our lives, Dubai being the dusty equivalent of this lonely, windy moor. But we never did find out. It just haunted my dreams the entire time we lived there, as did this one:

This one was actually on the wall in our bedroom. We never dared take it down as the Iranian obviously thought he was doing us a favour by displaying his lovely, special piece in our room, instead of somewhere downstairs, where he could look at it more. Mind you, he’d quite often come into our room to discuss his latest inventions with us… and ask us to work with him… so who knows, maybe he was just looking for an excuse to check we were still admiring his mysterious lady painting.

I have a few more, but I’ll have to dig them out. Seems like so long ago now! You know what… I actually miss not knowing what to expect when I come home these days. Sometimes there’s a cat shit on the floor, or some white fur, or maybe a cockroach, but on the whole, life in Bondi isn’t half as exciting.

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