Back in the humidity and heat of Abu Dhabi, though it has been dipping of late as low as 40 or 41 degrees Celsius, it is easy to forget, quite quickly, recent exposure to the unrelenting wetness of the UK.
Coming across a striking set of photographs by Dave, who uploads his photographs at Flickr under the username dkodigital and kindly allows my use of them, soon took my mind back to getting utterly drenched, also by the Wear, nearly a fortnight ago.
Some Salut! readers have already clicked on my column at The National in which I expanded on the passing reference made here about the experience. They'll know that the combined miseries of the weekend - all that rain, of course, but also seeing Sunderland walloped by Man City and then having to return to Abu Dhabi amid breaking news that oil-rich investors here had bought City - were compounded by a failure to get a decent Indian meal while at home.
The one thing you should always be able to count on in Britain is finding, without the least effort, superb if often basic Indian food.
Unless anyone comes forward to explain how and why standards might be slipping, I suppose I shall have to put my unappetising experience of Zayka in South Ealing down to bad luck.
All I needed, a few hours before my flight, was a straightforward lunch of prawn puri followed by chicken tikka.
When the man serving us - he may have been owner or part-owner - saw me struggling with the starter, he asked if everything was OK. I had just decided the prawns were distinctly off, but only after swallowing a couple. I told him. "Yes," he replied with impressive honesty. "I thought they didn't smell good."
Did I want something in their place? Er, no thank you, I said, thinking that at least with the tikka, I'd be on safe culinary ground. That was pretty poor too, the chicken coming in unappealing lumps with the texture of rubber. Most of it was still on the plate when the waiter-or-gaffer approached again, once more offering another choice.
I cannot be sure that Zayka's dodgy prawns had anything to do with the indigestion that bothered me all the way back to the UAE that night. And I salute the genuine concern of our man for asking twice if there was anything he might do to make the meal seem better, and then deducting any charge for the starter from the bill.
What is more, I have eaten there before and been perfectly contented with both quality and value. If I were to return, which does seem a big If just now, I'd probably eat well again. But I'd still spent far too much on food I couldn't bring myself to eat.
Never did I quite expect to have to add Indian food to the long list of things I miss. About France.
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