6They were Kuwaitis, young men, five of them, sitting on the beach in a semi-circle. The one in the middle was holding an instrument that looked like a guitar. He was playing and singing while the other four listened in silence. He sang louder and the guard came over. ‘Sir,’ he said. ‘You’ll disturb the other guests.’
The Kuwaitis looked at him without saying a word.
‘You can sit over there,’ the guard added, pointing to the compound next door, which was dark because it was being renovated. ‘That hotel’s empty, as you can see.’
The man in the middle stood up with his instrument and walked off. The others followed him, each of them carrying something.
I was sitting close by, between them and the sea, level with Willy’s Rock, listening to what they were saying. When they had moved and st
