On the eastern shore of the Red Sea, about half way down, lies the city of Jeddah grilling under the heat of the savage sun as it has done for the past couple of millennia. From a fishing village it became a trading post dealing in spices and silk from the east, frankincense from the Yemen and slaves from Africa long before man's thirst for oil made this a crossroad to the world.
In a side street close to the Palestine Road stood a department store unlike any other that I had ever seen. It wasn't old, being housed in a 70's concrete building of the kind you'll find almost anywhere in the Middle East but many of its contents were from a different era altogether and for a different culture and mentality.
On entering the ground floor I found myself at first in a fairly typical supermarket with shelves of food and goods from around the world, some familiar and some not. Herbs from Provence and spices from the east, all exuding that wonderful exotic aroma sadly missing from your local Tesco at home.
Moving on to the next floor up revealed a veritable hunting lodge on whose walls animal skins hung by their dozens - antelope, buffalo and zebra. A selection of their heads looked mournfully down to the floor where lay real tiger-skin rugs still with the head attached or, if you preferred, lion or bear all gazing open-mouthed with their glassy stares. Near the escalator was an umbrella stand made cruelly from an elephant's foot never to walk the Serengeti again. I have no idea now of the cost of these items but for the animals it was the ultimate price. Almost bizarrely these artefacts were juxtaposed with ordinary furniture and household goods that pretended to be the most normal thing in the world.
Returning to the ground floor there were yet more animals that were definitely alive and more valuable. The first that I saw was a large birdcage that was too small for the magnificent bird that sat incarcerated within. A Golden Eagle perched, watchful, and no doubt waiting for the chance to soar once more over the country from which it had been snatched. The cage, for a canary would have been quite generous, if you care for caging birds that should fly free, but for an eagle that could not have fully stretched its wings it was madness with a price ticket of 50,000 Saudi Riyals attached.
Resisting the temptation to poke a finger through the bars as I may have done with a budgie I turned away to see close by an even more incredible sight. The next cage held an eight-month old African lion as identified by the tag hanging from the cage which, once again, was far too small for the occupant. This natural hunter should have been in the wild learning to hunt and live a free life not kept in a cage being fed by man until it was sold as a plaything for the rich. Not having a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle I couldn't poke it in the ear as young Albert Ramsbottom had so famously done and so I turned my attention to the next spectacle.
Two live vultures sat, not in a cage, but in a pen made from wooden rails fixed on top of sides of turned spindles of the kind you would find on a banister. I presume that the birds had not flown because the pen was too small for take-off or perhaps their wings had been clipped. Next to this enclosure were glass fish tanks with shoals of tropical fish and between the tanks and the vultures, leaning against the wall, was a broom probably left by a janitor. As I watched the vultures one of them extended its long neck through the bars of the pen and grabbed hold of the head of the broom and started to shake it in a violent fashion. So madly did it do so that the broom handle was thrashing about and hitting the fish tanks with such force that I thought at any moment there would be a loud crash and a cascade of water and the flapping of stranded fish.
As I was the only person to be seen near this part of the store I was wondering that if the worst happened will the management believe me when I say "It was the vulture wot done it guv, honest!"
Thinking that my pleas may fall on deaf ears I decided to take charge of the broom and relieve the vulture of it. Grabbing hold of the handle I pulled it but the vulture pulled back. Being a bit surprised at the strength of the bird, and you should bear in mind that it was at least the size of a large swan, I pulled once more but the vulture was having none of it until, with renewed vigour, I regained the initiative and removed the broom from its grasp. A Tug o' War with a vulture - putting the broom well out of reach I made my way past the lion and the eagle and out of the shop thinking that no one will ever believe me.
Al Mokhtar Departmental Stores is still listed on the Internet but I have no idea if the stock is still the same as in 1981.