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catspawFor those interested - What We Did On Our Holidays - with pictures *g*
Well that was an experience and a half! Starting with the flight out: you guys must have seen the film footage of the plane getting tossed around on take-off in Germany, right? Huh. We lived the dream :-( I think we must have been on one of the last flights to leave Heathrow, from what I've seen on the news coverage since, and it definitely wasn't an experience that I'll put at the top of my 'must relive' list. I've flown through worse, bumpiness-wise, but the feeling of that airbus swerving from side to side and the pilot struggling to keep it on a straight course is one that will live with me for a while :-(
Still, we got there in one piece and landed to a pleasantly warm night. Not so lucky on Friday though. The day started off lovely and sunny - warm too - and in the morning I was happily paddling in the Gulf and beachcombing for shells. It clouded over later though and got positively chilly (woolly cardigan type chilly) and believe it or not, it damn well rained. I ask you! Rain! In what Universe is *that* fair? I was unreasonably bitter about that for at least three hours, especially as it rained just as we were starting a trip down Dubai Creek on a dhow. However, the alcohol was flowing freely, and was bolstered by a superb lunch below decks, both of which simple facts did much to alleviate the bitterness. I'm told I was positively mellow by the time lunch was over LOL. And I scored two recipes when I chummed up with the maitre d', who was a total sweetie :-)
A quick whizz round the Spice Souk, which yielded an incredible bargain on vanilla pods but which also resulted in us getting left behind by our party *g*, was followed by a trip to the Gold Souk. Man, what a disappointment. The whole place was wall to wall tat, and high-priced tat at that. Not that I was actually *looking* for anything, you understand - stricty window shopping only - but it had had such a build up, and it looked so utterly tawdry, that it was bound to be a let down. Top tip for anyone that goes to Dubai: avoid this one. Unless you've got Bett Lynch tastes and Ivana Trump collateral.
Come Saturday, the weather was lovely again. We passed half a morning at the Mall of the Emirates and saw Ski Dubai. Now there's a barking mad place if you like LOL! It's built into the Mall, and has great big observation windows so you can watch the Happy Shiny People having a Happy Shiny Time romping in the (real!) snow. So there we were, standing on one side of the glass in light summer clothing, watching the Happy Shinies on the other side staggering around under the weight of their ski gear and clumping along in their boots and puffy ski suits, looking like so many Michelin men. There's even a ski tow and a chair lift! And a mini luge run! And mock-mountaineering! LOL! Attention to detail though: the 'sky' was painted grey and cloudy looking, exactly like the kind of sky that's just dropped a load of snow and is thinking hard about dropping another, and deliberately designed as a total contrast to the sky outside.
The Mall of the Emirates though is an incredible looking place. For starters, it's huge. And very, very shiny. Immaculately clean and shiny. And comes with swish leather couches strategically placed on its shiny marble floors for you to collapse into when you've shopped to the point of dropping.
Saturday afternoon was another organised trip. Dune bashing in Toyota 4x4s this time. Our driver was a sweetie, a Tanzanian, and an excellent driver. He was also very honest about the pros and cons of living in Dubai as a migrant worker: these guys get no sort of a fair shake. Dune bashing though, there's an odd concept. It was fine for the first half hour, samey for the next half hour, and pretty much 'please, make it stop?' for the last couple of hours. Basically it's like so much in Dubai, conspicuous consumption with a side order of thrill seeking thrown in. But the desert landscape! Magnificent. Deserts are my favourite kind of places.
Oh, and a bit of fun in the middle: we stopped to have a try at sandboarding. And I did it! I boarded down this dune! Note the height and the steepness guys, and eat your hearts out *g* That was the greatest fun though. You had to get strapped onto the board, and I do mean strapped, it wasn't like skis. No quick release when you turn turtle *g* - which I did, but only having got 2/3 of the way down. I was quite proud of that! Also quite proud of the fact that I managed to get up on my feet again and make it to the bottom :-)
So, back to the jeeps for more thrill seeking, one quick stop to watch the sunset, which was marvellous, a drive by a camel farm (sidebar: camels in UAE, and possibly everywhere else that has them for all I know, are free range. They also 'home': according to our guide, a camel will walk all night to sleep in its accustomed place, rather than just settle down and have a quick forty winks in somewhere strange to it. They also, apparently, have the memory of an elephant and a taste for revenge: again according to our guide, mistreat a camel and it will get you back eventually, and if you hit a free range homing camel in the dark with your car, better hope that it's dead, because it will pursue you with murder in its heart if it's not) and then finally to the jewel in our Saturday crown, the venue for our Bedouin Feast. Out in the desert, under the stars.
One bum note here, so to speak: we were all *dying* for a pee after being cooped up in 4x4s all afternoon, the last comfort stop being but a dim and distant memory... one problem though. No facilities. Ah well, it was dark, so I sauntered off into the dunes to take care of the necessary with another couple, the wife (whose name I cannot for the life of me remember, but I only met her for about five minutes *g*) was in the same predicament as me. Her husband was with her to keep cavey, so we went round the front of the jeeps where it was comparatively quiet. "You go first," she said to me, "I'll stand on this side and fend people off, my husband will stand on the other side, then you and I can swap over."
Fair enough. We had to wait for another convoy of jeeps to go past (the illumination as they came along the road meant privacy was a casualty) and then we got started. It's excruciatingly difficult to pee like a racehorse with a complete stranger standing within three feet of you on either side! Very inhibiting. However, I managed to overcome the inhibitions and get started - just as another freakin' load of jeeps trundled down the road. So a good number of The Man's colleagues were treated to the sight of my lily white ass hanging in the breeze. I'm telling ya, if there's anything in this transmigration of souls lark, I'm coming back next time with my plumbing on the outside. Much easier all round.
Great fun, we all had to get dressed up as assorted Arabs. The Man looked very dashing as El Orens, very Peter O'Toole-ish, although the effect is kinda spoiled in the only photo I have of him by him standing holding two glasses of champagne LOL. The feast was held in Arab-style tented pavilions, all low tables, cushions for seating and carpets on the walls *g*. Another fabulous meal too, although this time, the baklava was the star of the show. I made it my solemn duty to try one of everything :-)
Next day, and home again. Big debate at Dubai Airport about whether to check the bags straight through or not- against my better judgement, that's what we did. The flight was good though, no ducking and diving this time :-) Special thanks here to those good folks at Heathrow who made *sure* we knew we were home again by putting us into Pointless Holding Pattern #512a for about 45 minutes at the end of a seven and a half hour flight, that was terrifically good of them. /sarcasm. Of course, this meant that what had been a quite reasonable amount of time to make the forward connection was rapidly evaporating, given the miles and *miles* of corridors you have to negotiate to get from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1. Had a skirmish with a piddling little jobsworth of a Customs Man, cleared immigration and went to check in for the onward flight.
And hit two of the *biggest* dipsticks manning the desk that I've ever met in my life. THey didn't seem to have the first clue about what they were doing: at one point I had to point out to our one that she'd mixed up our baggage receipts for the tx to Edinburgh with those of the four people her colleague was dealing with, who were going to Bradford. Sprinted to the right gate, boarded the plane muttering that it would be a miracle if our baggage ever showed up - and sure enough, one of the bags didn't :-( And of course, it was the bag with the toiletries in it. It eventually did show up the next day, but note to self: there's a *reason* you're suspicious of checking bags through on the homeward trip, you and your baggage have never yet arrived at the same place at the same time.
All round, it was a pretty good trip: The Man's firm didn't stint on anything, the food was good and the drink was plentiful. The hotel was luxurious, the architecture in Dubai, sensational. Beautiful, beautiful high rise buildings. I'm glad I went, but I doubt if I'd go back: the whole place was unreal, a fantasy - think Arab culture filtered through Disney - and I prefer a little more grit in my destinations. Although I daresay if it was all expenses paid again, I wouldn't turn my nose up at it *g*
Well that was an experience and a half! Starting with the flight out: you guys must have seen the film footage of the plane getting tossed around on take-off in Germany, right? Huh. We lived the dream :-( I think we must have been on one of the last flights to leave Heathrow, from what I've seen on the news coverage since, and it definitely wasn't an experience that I'll put at the top of my 'must relive' list. I've flown through worse, bumpiness-wise, but the feeling of that airbus swerving from side to side and the pilot struggling to keep it on a straight course is one that will live with me for a while :-(
Still, we got there in one piece and landed to a pleasantly warm night. Not so lucky on Friday though. The day started off lovely and sunny - warm too - and in the morning I was happily paddling in the Gulf and beachcombing for shells. It clouded over later though and got positively chilly (woolly cardigan type chilly) and believe it or not, it damn well rained. I ask you! Rain! In what Universe is *that* fair? I was unreasonably bitter about that for at least three hours, especially as it rained just as we were starting a trip down Dubai Creek on a dhow. However, the alcohol was flowing freely, and was bolstered by a superb lunch below decks, both of which simple facts did much to alleviate the bitterness. I'm told I was positively mellow by the time lunch was over LOL. And I scored two recipes when I chummed up with the maitre d', who was a total sweetie :-)
A quick whizz round the Spice Souk, which yielded an incredible bargain on vanilla pods but which also resulted in us getting left behind by our party *g*, was followed by a trip to the Gold Souk. Man, what a disappointment. The whole place was wall to wall tat, and high-priced tat at that. Not that I was actually *looking* for anything, you understand - stricty window shopping only - but it had had such a build up, and it looked so utterly tawdry, that it was bound to be a let down. Top tip for anyone that goes to Dubai: avoid this one. Unless you've got Bett Lynch tastes and Ivana Trump collateral.
Come Saturday, the weather was lovely again. We passed half a morning at the Mall of the Emirates and saw Ski Dubai. Now there's a barking mad place if you like LOL! It's built into the Mall, and has great big observation windows so you can watch the Happy Shiny People having a Happy Shiny Time romping in the (real!) snow. So there we were, standing on one side of the glass in light summer clothing, watching the Happy Shinies on the other side staggering around under the weight of their ski gear and clumping along in their boots and puffy ski suits, looking like so many Michelin men. There's even a ski tow and a chair lift! And a mini luge run! And mock-mountaineering! LOL! Attention to detail though: the 'sky' was painted grey and cloudy looking, exactly like the kind of sky that's just dropped a load of snow and is thinking hard about dropping another, and deliberately designed as a total contrast to the sky outside.
The Mall of the Emirates though is an incredible looking place. For starters, it's huge. And very, very shiny. Immaculately clean and shiny. And comes with swish leather couches strategically placed on its shiny marble floors for you to collapse into when you've shopped to the point of dropping.
Saturday afternoon was another organised trip. Dune bashing in Toyota 4x4s this time. Our driver was a sweetie, a Tanzanian, and an excellent driver. He was also very honest about the pros and cons of living in Dubai as a migrant worker: these guys get no sort of a fair shake. Dune bashing though, there's an odd concept. It was fine for the first half hour, samey for the next half hour, and pretty much 'please, make it stop?' for the last couple of hours. Basically it's like so much in Dubai, conspicuous consumption with a side order of thrill seeking thrown in. But the desert landscape! Magnificent. Deserts are my favourite kind of places.
Oh, and a bit of fun in the middle: we stopped to have a try at sandboarding. And I did it! I boarded down this dune! Note the height and the steepness guys, and eat your hearts out *g* That was the greatest fun though. You had to get strapped onto the board, and I do mean strapped, it wasn't like skis. No quick release when you turn turtle *g* - which I did, but only having got 2/3 of the way down. I was quite proud of that! Also quite proud of the fact that I managed to get up on my feet again and make it to the bottom :-)
So, back to the jeeps for more thrill seeking, one quick stop to watch the sunset, which was marvellous, a drive by a camel farm (sidebar: camels in UAE, and possibly everywhere else that has them for all I know, are free range. They also 'home': according to our guide, a camel will walk all night to sleep in its accustomed place, rather than just settle down and have a quick forty winks in somewhere strange to it. They also, apparently, have the memory of an elephant and a taste for revenge: again according to our guide, mistreat a camel and it will get you back eventually, and if you hit a free range homing camel in the dark with your car, better hope that it's dead, because it will pursue you with murder in its heart if it's not) and then finally to the jewel in our Saturday crown, the venue for our Bedouin Feast. Out in the desert, under the stars.
One bum note here, so to speak: we were all *dying* for a pee after being cooped up in 4x4s all afternoon, the last comfort stop being but a dim and distant memory... one problem though. No facilities. Ah well, it was dark, so I sauntered off into the dunes to take care of the necessary with another couple, the wife (whose name I cannot for the life of me remember, but I only met her for about five minutes *g*) was in the same predicament as me. Her husband was with her to keep cavey, so we went round the front of the jeeps where it was comparatively quiet. "You go first," she said to me, "I'll stand on this side and fend people off, my husband will stand on the other side, then you and I can swap over."
Fair enough. We had to wait for another convoy of jeeps to go past (the illumination as they came along the road meant privacy was a casualty) and then we got started. It's excruciatingly difficult to pee like a racehorse with a complete stranger standing within three feet of you on either side! Very inhibiting. However, I managed to overcome the inhibitions and get started - just as another freakin' load of jeeps trundled down the road. So a good number of The Man's colleagues were treated to the sight of my lily white ass hanging in the breeze. I'm telling ya, if there's anything in this transmigration of souls lark, I'm coming back next time with my plumbing on the outside. Much easier all round.
Great fun, we all had to get dressed up as assorted Arabs. The Man looked very dashing as El Orens, very Peter O'Toole-ish, although the effect is kinda spoiled in the only photo I have of him by him standing holding two glasses of champagne LOL. The feast was held in Arab-style tented pavilions, all low tables, cushions for seating and carpets on the walls *g*. Another fabulous meal too, although this time, the baklava was the star of the show. I made it my solemn duty to try one of everything :-)
Next day, and home again. Big debate at Dubai Airport about whether to check the bags straight through or not- against my better judgement, that's what we did. The flight was good though, no ducking and diving this time :-) Special thanks here to those good folks at Heathrow who made *sure* we knew we were home again by putting us into Pointless Holding Pattern #512a for about 45 minutes at the end of a seven and a half hour flight, that was terrifically good of them. /sarcasm. Of course, this meant that what had been a quite reasonable amount of time to make the forward connection was rapidly evaporating, given the miles and *miles* of corridors you have to negotiate to get from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1. Had a skirmish with a piddling little jobsworth of a Customs Man, cleared immigration and went to check in for the onward flight.
And hit two of the *biggest* dipsticks manning the desk that I've ever met in my life. THey didn't seem to have the first clue about what they were doing: at one point I had to point out to our one that she'd mixed up our baggage receipts for the tx to Edinburgh with those of the four people her colleague was dealing with, who were going to Bradford. Sprinted to the right gate, boarded the plane muttering that it would be a miracle if our baggage ever showed up - and sure enough, one of the bags didn't :-( And of course, it was the bag with the toiletries in it. It eventually did show up the next day, but note to self: there's a *reason* you're suspicious of checking bags through on the homeward trip, you and your baggage have never yet arrived at the same place at the same time.
All round, it was a pretty good trip: The Man's firm didn't stint on anything, the food was good and the drink was plentiful. The hotel was luxurious, the architecture in Dubai, sensational. Beautiful, beautiful high rise buildings. I'm glad I went, but I doubt if I'd go back: the whole place was unreal, a fantasy - think Arab culture filtered through Disney - and I prefer a little more grit in my destinations. Although I daresay if it was all expenses paid again, I wouldn't turn my nose up at it *g*
