Zombie Nation

There's nothing quite as grating as the Muslim call to prayer. Five times a day, a tuneless tone-deaf Omani picks up his microphone and belts out the most hideous piece of music known to man. All the Muslim blokes (I don't know what the women do) then dutifully shuffle out their homes to congregate at the nearest mosque and worship Allah.

The mosque over the road from us has the extra annoyance of extra loud speakers which kick start at 5am and never seem to stop as the day progresses. To counteract the irritation levels experienced due to this assault on our eardrums, Larissa and I like to sing along with our own alternative words. I shall not divulge them here.

As I write this, it has just started again. It really is dreadful.

Give me the pleasing melodic chimes of church bells any day.