Since I moved to Bahrain seven months ago I have been enamoured with everything around me. I love the people, the food, and the rich culture. Obviously a big part of that culture is the religion, which is exemplified during Ramadan, writes Charlie Holding.

Since I have only been in Bahrain a short while, this will be my first Ramadan and from what I have been told it sounds like an ideal time to test the strength of your convictions and willpower.

As a mark of respect to my Muslim co-workers and a test of my own fortitude I have decided to embark on a quest for knowledge and a better understanding of what Ramadan is really about, and as such, I have decided to participate in it this year.

I am a Westerner through and through, I really enjoy my food, my beverages and my cigarettes and can think of no better test of my own willpower than being around these things and not allowing myself to have them.

Obviously, I realise that this will be an enormous challenge, as my colleagues will attest, my stomach is a bottomless pit that constantly craves junk food. However, I am determined to last as long as I can.

I hope to gain a sense of comradery with the people who partake in this sacred event each year and in doing so, learn more about the place I now call home.

Hopefully, my experiences will serve as an insight into a foreigner's perspective.

On the first day of Ramadan I began to ask myself 'Why did I think this would be a good idea?' It had only been about four hours since I ate or drank but I was already beginning to really regret agreeing to this social experiment.

I found myself hoping that as with most things in life, this would become easier with time! I have taken to chewing on my pen lid to help fight my urges to eat, drink and smoke, but as tasty as the pen lid is, it's just not as satisfying as a burger.

The second day was even harder than the first. It'd been about 15 hours since I last ate or drank anything and, I was beginning to feel the worse for wear.

I found it hard to concentrate on my job and had chewed my way through my pen lid (Which, I checked doesn't count as eating since I didn't enjoy it or swallow).

At this point I should mention that I have been smoking everyday since I was 17 years old. I lost track of how many packs a day I smoke, but I quite easily go through two lighters a day. I wanted a cigarette so badly that I actually sniffed one of my co-workers as he returned from a smoke break because I miss nicotine that much!

Being thirsty is the worst part of Ramadan for me, it's really humid outside and my throat feels like it's closing up on me. The pen lid I had been chewing on for the past few days is now reduced to a mere nub. I can't wait for six'o'clock to roll around when it's time for Iftar, which I now ironically refer to as "Happy hour".

My first official Iftar: I had just finished a 12-and-a-half-hour day at the office and was ready to break my fast. I got on to the company bus, which was due to drop me off at the Regency Intercontinental for a ghabga feast ... or so I thought.

As luck would have it, on the way some careless fool decided to crash into the back of the bus, thus instigating a fun-filled trip to the General Directorate of Traffic offices to report the incident.

I couldn't believe it. I had waited all day to eat and then my willpower was truly tested while a waited even longer! After about half an hour of patiently waiting and letting my stomach digest a small portion of itself, my friend Jayson kindly picked me up and took me to the hotel.

When I got there I was met by co-workers and family and proceeded to gorge myself on an assortment of delicious delicacies inside a traditional Ramadan tent.

It was a great experience, there was traditional Arabic music, card games, everyone was having loads of fun and storing calories like camels. Even though I ate a large amount, when the event was over, I still took a trip to my local KFC and consumed more chicken than Colonel Sanders!

On my fourth day of Ramadan, I couldn't bring myself to wake up at 3am to stock up on calories for the day ... a decision I soon began to regret, rue and genuinely lament! By about midday I literally felt like I was about to keel over and die. My body hadn't adjusted to fasting, I constantly craved nicotine and was even short-tempered with my friends.

Even in an air-conditioned office, wearing a light T-shirt, and sitting down at my desk all day, moving only to use the toilet, I was still burning in the Bahrain heat.

However, when 'Happy hour' came along, it felt like a weight had literally been lifted off of me.

I don't think I'm articulate enough to describe the sensation of drinking the first sip of a cool glass of water after a long hot day, but I'll have a go.

Imagine if you will, the hottest part of hell, the place where marketing executives go to dwell. Now try to think of even hotter still, where bankers and landlords and like-minded sorts, go to spend all the profits they've made eternally. And now go one step further in the furnace, back to where coals glow white with rage, where arms dealers play ... that is how Bahrain feels in the summer ... and I can't sip a glass of water?!

When I was finally able to drink, the pure unadulterated joy almost brought tears to my eyes and don't even get me started about the pleasure of that first cigarette of the day.

I hope that my body will soon adjust to the fasting, the weather and the cravings for nicotine.

I'm amazed how people do this every year!

Editor's note:_Find out whether British expatriate Charlie meets the fasting challenge at the end of Ramadan.