Counting Blessings..

Let’s just say that it’s quite easy to get depressed when you are living far away from everyone and everything you know and love. The novelty of living in a new place gradually wears off and one day you wake up to find that Reality (previously just trying to sneak in the back door) is now comfortably entrenched at your kitchen table having coffee from the espresso machine. With milk and one sugar, if you don’t mind, thanks.

But the thing is, just when you think you’ve had enough, something extraordinary happens.

Like a spontaneous trip to Thailand.

Magical, glorious, Thailand.

I’ve never been to the East before, but I had seen loads of footage on the wildlife, so I was uber-excited. (Make that doubly-triply excited after months and months in the desert with only date palms to quench my thirst for something green.)

And Thailand delivered spectacularly. I don’t think that I have ever seen a more beautiful place than Phi-Phi Island (one of the bays is where they filmed the movie “The Beach” with Leo di Caprio.)

It’s so beautiful you feel like your soul has removed your heart and gently placed it on a boat floating to nowhere, slowly bobbing on the most sparklingly-clear, warm water you have ever experienced. And when your heart looks up from the boat and sees the lush, green rainforests hugging the cliffs that plunge into the ocean.... it knows that this is what heaven looks like.

Mother Nature must have been in a brilliant mood when creating Thailand. It feels like she was inspired by the most magnificently poignant symphonies that would only composed millions of years later, ringing in her ears. I certainly heard them when the sun set over the cliffs, leaving the sky painted in colours that make you weep with joy. It’s that incredible. A true paradise.

One of the first things I noticed was that I felt so alive. I bounced out of bed early every morning, scared that I would miss out on something. A bird. A new flower. Breakfast.

I had energy..I could breathe. Trees, as it turns out, will do that to you. I realised that I’ve been starved of life-giving oxygen, and Thailand has trees in abundance. (Sigh). I’ve even come up with my own mathematical equation for this phenomenon (‘cos it’s obviously never been done before...):

No trees = no oxygen = look crap = feel crap = depressed. Or as scientists would probably write it:

NT / NcO2 = UG LE + FC = DP x 10000000.00

Who said I couldn’t do maths?

I also decided to honour the trees, and wrote this little poem which I have cryptically entitled:

“Ode to the Tree”

Oh beautiful tree
How I love thee
You’re making me
Breathe eas-ee
And very hap-pee.

Step aside William Blake.


Clearly all that fresh air has gone to my head! Sorry about that...erm, moving on....

Am back in Dubai now, and was really expecting to hate it. If there is an opposite of the Middle East, it’s Thailand.

But strangely enough, Reality and I are now pretty good mates and regularly have coffee together (except mine’s without the sugar).
I am counting my blessings and they are infinite...
I have friends and a support system here.... My colleagues are amazing and hilarious... There are people doing incredible environmental work in this harsh, barren place... I get to see things I never ever would have. I saw Nellie Furtado in concert this weekend... And I’m going home for Christmas!

I’m happy. I’m refreshed. And I’ve been reminded why I do the work that I do.
Dear God... Planet Earth is Amazing. And I’m so grateful to be alive and experiencing it.
Thank you.

I can't think of a headline for this one...

It was only 33 degrees today....The weather is changing - yahoo!
Actually, it’s been absolutely beautiful the last few days. I discovered that I can even see the sea from my bedroom! I have a room with a view and until the weekend, didn’t even know. Since I arrived in the UAE 6 months ago it’s been hot, humid, hazy and horrible. Now, there are even blue skies and clouds (didn’t know the Middle East was capable of such natural wonders) and you can sit outside in the evenings without looking and feeling like a melted bowl of Haagen Dasz.

The big news is that I have decided to buy a car. I swore blind that I wouldn’t - I am an ardent supporter and lover of public transport - but it is MUCH MUCH more “cost-effective” (like the marketing speak?) to buy a car. Petrol is ridiculously cheap here - about the equivalent of R2.90 per litre. And I can buy a really nice little environmentally-friendly 4x4 brand new - something I would never ever be able to afford at home. You don’t pay a deposit, the interest rate is only about 3-4% and monthly repayments are much less than the monthly cumulative total of my daily ferryings between my apartment and our car-pool rendezvous spot. Have I convinced you yet? Good.

There’s only One Little Problem.

I can’t seem to get my head around this left-hand-side-of-the-road-driving-thing. All the cars are automatic, so I don’t need to worry about changing gears with my right hand or anything like that. It’s just that my brain is stubbornly stuck to the idea that you turn left at a roundabout (traffic circle). And can you believe that none of my friends, or colleagues, will let me drive their cars around parking lots to try and get used to it? They call it “my insurance doesn’t cover anyone else driving.” I call it “rude”. So I’m probably just going to have to get into my new vehicle and, in the immortal words of Nike’s mid- ‘90s campaign, “Just Do It.”

I have to admit that besides the (obvious) financial benefits of buying a car, the best thing will be that I will no longer have to deal with taxi drivers. It may just be me. Or the fact that I am blonde. Either way, I have been proposed to twice.
And don’t get me wrong. I like Pakistani folk as much as the next person, but seriously.......??!!

Driver: “ You beautiful. You married?”

Me: “No. I need to go to Spinney’s on Al Wasl Road.”

Driver: “Children?”

Me: “No. You know Spinneys? Al Wasl Road?”

Driver: “ You need husband. Children good. You beautiful lady. I take you home to Pakistan. You like country.”

Me: [under my breath] “yeah, and can we honeymoon in Sierra Leone then too?”

It can get particularly awkward in peak hour traffic, where there’s nowhere to get out, and nowhere to hide.

They are an interesting lot these taxi drivers, who are typically from Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. You get ones that sing along unashamedly to the latest hits on the local Bollywood station. Or ones that are particularly interested in talking about South African cricket (“Hansie Cronje best player. And Alan Donald. Best batsman”).
I once got a taxi driver who INSISTED that I smoke in his car (“I like my customers to feel comfortable”) and despite my persistent protests about it being illegal, stopped at a store and bought me a pack of Marlboros. And then there was the guy who after ten minutes of driving piped up [insert Indian accent, and that beautiful, typical head-bobbing thing here] “It’s getting a little uncomfortable in silence. I put on radio”. I had tears...... Perhaps you needed to be there.

Anyway, there’s one thing that all taxi drivers have in common - and that’s a complete lack of verbs, adverbs or prepositions in their sentences - pretty much everything except the most basic of instructions. I am aware that English is a really difficult language, but you can never ever say to a driver: “at the traffic light, you should do a u-turn because I need to go in at the rear entrance of the building.”

You have to say: “At light, u-turn, back-side building.”

It’s the only way. Anything else is lost in translation.

Fishy Pedicure

Something else I did just to able to say “been there done that”… a pedicure, expertly conducted by a shoal of fish.

Here’s a step-by-step guide, in case you feel like one too:

1. Decide to spend a morning at “Wild Wadi,” a water-theme park with rides on tubes, swimming pools with fake waves etc.
2. After some fun in the sun and a thrilling ride down the “Jumeira Scarer” you will probably be thinking, “gee I would love to have a pedicure round about right now” (as one does).
3. Marvel at how they seem to think of everything here in Dubai as you walk up to “Fisho” – the home of the fishy pedi – right in the middle of Wild Wadi.
4. Pay the entrance fee and wash your feet with the special soap provided.
5. Sit at the edge of a fish tank and slowly dangle your feet and calves into the water.
6. Try not to totally freak out as hundreds of inch-long little fish attack your feet and begin feasting on dead skin cells.
7. Do not embarrass yourself by shrieking loudly at the excruciating ticklishness inflicted by the fish as they suck and nibble away at your feet like they haven’t eaten for a week.
8. Fight the feeling that that this is more than a little creepy.
9. Do not let your mind wander to thoughts of piranhas. Or leeches. [shudder]
10. After a while, you will get used to the feeling.
11. Concentrate on not thinking about leeches.
12. Do not look at your fish-festooned feet.
13. Seriously. They are not piranhas. They’re too small. Really.
14. After twenty minutes, you will be unceremoniously evicted from the fish-tank area.
15. But, as you slip your feet back into your slops, they should feel silky smooth-ish.
16. Go home to ease your bewilderment.
17. Book your next pedicure with your usual lady at “Feet First” in Mall of the Emirates, where there are no fish tanks to be seen anywhere.

For more information AND pictures go to:
http://www.jumeirah.com/en/hotels-and-resorts/wild-wadi/Services--Facilities/FISHO/

Bottomless Bollie and other tales of Brunch

Allow me to introduce you to the Friday Brunch in Dubai....

As the name so cryptically suggests, it concerns food, and in this particular case, LOTS of it.

Friday Brunch is an institution here. Most hotels, restaurants and bars “do brunch”. It’s usually a (fabulous-beyond-words) buffet affair where you pay a set amount and can eat and drink all-you-can between 12h30 and 15h30.

But allow me to put this into perspective: It’s Friday brunch, i.e. it’s on our first day of the weekend, which is also the Islamic Holy Day. And basically, while the Muslims are at Mosque praying, the ex-pats are getting trollied on Bollie. And I DO mean trollied, and I DO mean Bollie - the really expensive bubbly sparkling wine that you can actually legally call “Champagne”.

You may be able to tell that I am speaking from experience. And you’d be correct. I was invited by my aunt and her friends to join in for Friday Brunch last week. Of course, I had read all the ads in the papers and Time Out magazine in which hundreds of restaurants proclaim to “have the best Brunch!”. I’d heard the rumours about these notorious affairs and how completely out-of-hand they can get, so, I was keen to see for myself. I blow-dried my hair, thanked God once again for Bobby Brown’s Under Eye Concealer (it was a long week, ok, I was really tired), slapped on some lipstick, and caught a taxi to my Inaugural Brunch.

I arrived at a scene unlike anything I have ever seen before. All the women were dressed to the nines.. heels, hair, designer outfits, you name it! The tables were decorated with balloons, party hats, fake-plastic tiaras and those hooty-blowy things that you buy for kids parties. Taking into account that this was an Australian restaurant, I chalked this down to the quirky habits of our cousins Down Under. Apparently Brunch is an occasion for themed decor experimentation.

What was truly astounding, however, was the service at this eatery. The food was the obligatory buffet (sushi, seafood, roast, leave-your-diet-at-your apartment, etc etc etc), so no waitrons needed for that. But it was the serving of the drinks that defied all comprehension. No sooner had you taken a mere two sips of Bollinger, than an apron-clad Filipino lass or lad would magically appear to top you up! There were about 200 people all drinking the same thing, at the same time, so how did they know that under-dressed little-old-me “needed” a refill? The Bottomless Bollie was in town and it was taking no prisoners.

There’s nothing quite like having unlimited alcohol at a set price to get people well and truly, um, festive.

By three-thirty in the afternoon, the place, and everyone in it, was unrecognisable. The music (‘70s, 80’s & 90‘s of course), which had been getting progressively louder, was suddenly at nightclub level. The green and red disco lights were turned on, psycadelically reflecting off the mirror ball in the centre of the room, which was apparently everyone’s cue to get up and shake their collective booties - whether in the aisles between the tables, on the tables, or at the bar. Let me just say again.. it was three thirty in the afternoon. Not the morning.

It must also be noted that the average age of ex-pats in Dubai is between 35 and 60. There are no “young things” - employers tend to look for people with experience, so you’re never going to get a bar or club filled with students. The reason I’m mentioning this, is to give you a proper picture. You won’t find twenty-somethings getting-down to JayZee’s latest. Oh no. This was well and truly fully-grown men and women - doing dance moves that really are best left in the decade from which they originated - shrieking “ooooooh, we’re halfway there.... oooooh oooooh, liiiiiiving on a prayerrrrrr!” and “..and I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more......”.

I can assure you, however, that no-one was walking anywhere after this. And certainly not 500-miles.

What a day! From my position as casual observer and small-time participant at this event, I can confirm that Friday Brunch is lots of fun.

But having said that, there is no way in hell that I could do more than one Brunch a month - if that. I don’t care how tempting the ads and posters are. And when they say that Friday Brunch is an institution, they really mean it. You need to go to one to recover.

The plight of animals...

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love animals more than anything. Which makes it all the more strange that I should end up in a country where there is not exactly an abundance of them. Even domestic animals are quite rare, so when I heard about the Dubai Animal Rescue Centre (DARC), I knew I had to go and take a look.

Not surprisingly, I encountered vast amounts of exotic animals (and a few domestic ones) all of whom were former “pets” that had become unwanted. [“Oh mommy, please please please can I have a Andean Alpaca Pleeeeeeeeze? They are SOOOO cute. Daddy can just pay to bring it into the country. I really really want one......".]

Fast forward a few months, and "Valentino", the cold-climate version of a Llama, is now much larger than when she arrived and has a nasty habit of spitting saliva on anyone and anything that comes near her. Can’t send her back home. Now what?

Enter DARC and the incredible woman who has turned her own home into a shelter for these animals who literally have nowhere else to go.

All the animals here have similar stories, and there are none that are indigenous to the Middle East. Meerkats (for crying in a bucket of python poop, what are they doing here????), Capybaras (South America), Iguanas (Indonesia), peacocks (India), Prairie Dogs (USA), Ferrets (wherever, I haven’t got a clue), a pair of owls, species unknown (who keeps an owl? How do you even catch an owl???), tortoises (you have to watch your step everywhere you walk), terrapins, an African Grey Parrot, some antelope, loads of rabbits (long-eared and other varieties), the above-mentioned Alpacas, nine dogs and eight cats.

It’s literally a zoo, in a house, in the middle of the suburbs: small, but immaculate, and each enclosure is lovingly kept in the best condition possible - aircon included. No animal is ever turned away, and the owner does whatever she can, funding it mostly out of her own pocket.

She has a couple of very dedicated volunteers who come in every day - even if it’s just to play with the domestic animals. I spent ages with the cats who behaved more like dogs, just wanting to be petted and loved and picked up and scritched and scratched and were all over me like the rash I would have got if I were allergic to them. Thankfully, I am not.

Sigh. Every now and then my faith in humanity is revived. But I feel compelled to do something to help. Obviously being in television I can create some kind of awareness, (and it’s mostly going to be about attempting to get it into the heads of imbesilic individuals who think that having a wild animal as a pet is acceptable), but on a personal level I would really like to do something. Ideally, DARC needs its own bigger, better property and a regular income that covers expenses for enclosures and food for the animals. Am going to have to be creative about this.... hmmmmmm.....

Something else to keep me awake at night. Not like I have insomnia or anything.

Lead me not into temptation......

Virtually impossible in Dubai, where every street leads to a mall of fabulosity. It’s the holy grail of retail therapy. The centre of the shopping universe. I want everything.....

For the first time in my life I lust after Paris Hilton’s life with her unlimited credit cards. It’s not fair!!! I also wanna!!

The designer stuff is the worst. Having only been exposed to limited ranges of Haute Couture at Nelson Mandela Square, this is a whole new world. God, it’s beautiful. You can smell the difference, never mind see it. It’s causing serious tension in my little unaccustomed head:

Bad me: Oh My God, that’s the most beautiful bag I have ever seen in my life.

Good me: Oh my God, look at the price. Don’t be ridiculous. Put. It. Down.

Bad me: But it will go with everything... last for years, and never go out of fashion.

Good me: It costs 4500 Dirhams. Leave Bloomingdales at once!

Bad me: But, it’s not just a bag. It’s a Jimmy Choo. Everyone will think I’m so sophisticated...

Good me: Out! Out! Leave! Which direction is the exit?

Bad me: ... not to mention a fashionista at the cutting edge of international trends.

Good me: OUT OUT OUT!!!

It’s exhausting.

I would like to assure everyone, however, that despite all the temptation, I have rarely succumbed (says she peering over the rims of her Versace shades). At least I’m not as bad as my friend Kate. We went shopping for gifts on Saturday because we’re both going home to SA for a visit next week. We [bargain] shopped for hours and she went home with six handbags, a good few designer scarves, and a brand new Subaru. Yes, the car. The 4x4 one. She wasn’t even planning it.

'Cos, that’s how we roll here in the Middle East.

Blogging again...

Dubai always feels like I’m in the middle of a Lego set or one of those mock-up model-cities that architects make.... modern high-rise buildings, the odd tree, a lone, miniature statue of a human strategically placed to look like they are enjoying a cup of coffee at a cafe, just to give it that “realistic” feel. OK it has been summer, and anyone with even a vague sense of self-preservation has spent the last two months ensuring that they are never more than 5 meters from air-con. But, you never see people walking around and the shops and restaurants along the street look closed and abandoned, with empty tables and unopened umbrellas on their terraces. They are there, of course. Millions of ‘em. But all are inside, praying that the valet parking guy has switched on the air-con in the car before they deliver it back.

Heat like this is just not right. And it’s not normal for humans to be living here. Take the Arabian Gulf for example. A couple of weeks ago I had the most inexplicable urge to go to the beach in the afternoon, when the sun was at its zenith, and beaming down 45 degree rays. Foolishly, I thought that a nice dip in the beautiful ocean would be just the remedy. Until I got in. Welcome to the warmest ocean in the world, where you sweat IN the water. ‘Cos that’s almost 40 degrees too. No-one can understand this until you have experienced it. The sea is hotter than bath water, no exaggeration.

And speaking of hot water, that’s pretty much all there is. The cold water plumbing pipes are always outside a building, so no matter how much you beg and plead with the Gods of Cold Water to bless you with a cool shower, it never happens. No-one here bothers to even put their geysers on.

By the way, I deserve an award: I officially survived a day when the mercury touched 54 degrees celsius.

I know it’s been a while since I last blogged, but in case anyone hasn’t noticed, I have moved to Dubai. I still work in Abu Dhabi, but I now stay in the older part of the Retail Therapy Capital of the World. Yes, shopping in Dubai is everything it’s hyped up to be, and more. But more about that at another time.

It’s been a strange few months. I’ve not only moved continents, but homes three times, and offices once. I’ve fallen in and out of love. I’ve made new friends. I’ve developed an addiction to edimame beans. I’ve swum with sharks in the Indian Ocean side of the UAE. I’ve been to the top of the tallest building in the world (for 1-minute until I had to leave because I couldn’t breathe). I’ve watched the sun set over Jumeira Beach from the Sky Bar at the Hilton. I’ve got a standing weekly appointment for my manicure, pedicure, and facials. I’m still too scared to drive, but have a regular, Pakistani taxi driver who is outside in the street waiting to give me a lift every morning, and calls to check on my schedule. I’ve gotten so used to the 4am call-to-prayers that it’s become comforting. I’ve felt stifled. I’ve felt liberated. I’ve wept with longing for my dogs, my family and my friends back home. I’ve felt an incredible sense of belonging amongst my colleauges, most of whom are so talented, warm and just amazing.

Yip, folks. It’s been a ride. And the journey is just beginning.

Hot. Hot. Soccer!

The heat is becoming intolerable. It’s 6pm and 49 degrees celsius. And the worst is yet to come... when night falls it brings with it levels of humidity that have to be experienced to be comprehended. Stepping out of the safety of fully-air-conditioned buildings means literally walking into a wall of heat. Ever had a hairdryer blow into your face at full speed on the this-is-definitely-going-to-damage-your-hair setting? Well, that’s the feeling. Only you can’t switch it off, and it’s a full-body affair.

But onto other matters that are equally as hot... the World Cup. SO wish I was back home to be in the midst of what seems to be an amazing, vuvuzela-infused, spirit-overloaded event! Soccer fever has hit the UAE in a big way too. Most nights are spent on our regular spot on the couch at the “Y-Bar” in one of the hotels here. It gets packed with all sorts of nationalities depending on the game. I am absolutely loving meeting people from all over the world. At one of the games the following nationalities were sitting on the afore-mentioned couch: Lebanon, America (my wonderful boyfriend, who is affectionately nicknamed “Baltimore” by everyone), little ol’ South African me, my Canadian friend Ivanna, our Icelandic friend Joey (who knew that people and not only volcanoes came from that country?), our German friend Mattheus, the mad Brit Marky Marc, a Bulgarian and a Polish girl. Certainly makes for interesting conversation, let me tell you. Soccer, truly is a universal unifyer. I never paid much attention to it - but have become quite engrossed despite South Africa’s... umm... performance. (Don’t worry Bafana Bafana - all will be forgiven if you just beat the French tomorrow!).

On another note, new recruits in the company are all having weight issues. And it's not from bad eating. It's either the heat that slows down your metabolism, or we're all retaining water in weird places.

Minus three degrees celsius has never felt so good.

That’s the temperature of the indoor ski slope in Dubai. Went there on Friday with my American. Loads and loads of fun! I spent the day in “Introduction to Skiing” and “Skiing Level 1” classes. Decided I could actually do this. I can maybe.. perhaps... actually ski! (Ok, so I didn’t really master the stopping part, but they have conveniently placed mattresses against all the walls for just that purpose!) I am a convert and can finally put “The Snowboarding Nightmare of 1997” to rest.

This is truly a place of extreme contrasts. Minus 3 degrees inside. 47 degrees out. I loved being in the cold of the Snow Resort... felt invigorated and alive (as opposed to the wilted, sweaty, sticky, hope-my-deodorant-is-working and how-does-anyone-survive-in-this-place feeling you get when you stick an appendage outside.) It’s crazy, crazy hot. I don’t think I will ever get used to it.

On another note, life has become pretty routine, even if you are constantly aware that this is another planet. I’ve made some friends on this strange little island that I live on. The picture attached is of the gang: From left to right are Joe the American, Me, Ivanna from Toronto, Canada (sorry, Tarronnno, Keyenada), and Marc the mad Brit. We generally hang out at one of the hotel pools after work, or go for dinner or whatever. It’s nice to have your phone ring with a mate on the other end of the line.

Work is getting busier. Have my first official function tomorrow - an event hosted by the Abu Dhabi Marine Corporation and the Swiss Embassy - a presentation on “The Perils of Plastic Bags”. Should be fun.

In a nutcase, I’m learning more than I ever thought possible, am having an absolute blast on the social front. On the downside, I’m still going nuts without my dogs and get very very teary whenever I see another dog, or talk about them. Got busted by an Arab whilst talking (out loud) to a sick and dying pigeon on the balcony yesterday. Forgot it was one-way glass. And yes, it was very uncomfortable.

Him: “You talking to the bird?”

Me: “ummmmm yes” [Hasty exit and note to self: “Do not talk to animals in public. Do not talk to animals in public. In fact, just do not talk to animals anymore”]

Don’t even want to think about what he must have said to people.

Am also getting really upset that I am not in SA for the World Cup. I audio-stream Highveld Stereo all day long, and the excitement seems to be reaching fever-pitch back home. Have booked a spot for the gang at work to watch the game on Friday, so will be sharing the gees from over here. Am armed and ready with my Bafana T-Shirt and my flag. And I know I am going to howl my eyes out when they play the National Anthem.

I'm still laughing....

A colleague of mine has been staying in the same hotel since he arrived in the UAE. He's a South African Indian and at breakfast this morning, the following conversation took place:

Waiter: Excuse me Sir, are you Sri Lankan?

Colleague: Ummm no. And of all the places in the world, why Sri Lanka?

Waiter: Well, Sir, you look like you could come from Sri Lanka and you eat poached eggs.

There you have it.

Random Ramblings

The absentee blogger is back! Sorry folks, but I have been on a BBC-presented “Appreciating HD” course for the last few days. Have gotten home exhausted every night, to say the least.

So I thought I ramble about some random things:

1. Lebanese Lentil & Lemon Soup is THE BUSINESS! Have it for lunch almost every day. We get it delivered from the local Lebanese take-away, rather strangely named “Automatic”.

2. Actually, the food here, in general, is amazing. Am trying very hard not to pick up weight. There is in fact a syndrome round here called “The Middle-Eastern Stone” which refers to the, erm, spare-tyre that most ex-pats develop around their stomachs during their first two months of living here. It’s seafood buffet night again tonight… someone please tell me how I am supposed to resist unlimited sushi, the endless row of enormous prawns just waiting for me to add garlic sauce, the poached salmon, crayfish tails…..??? It’s just not possible.

3. You drink a lot of water here. Like a lot.

4. The heat is ridiculous.

5. Companies here spend a load of money on corporate stationery.

6. I have decided to live in a hotel for the next two months. Finding a place to stay is almost impossible. Am working pretty hard, so not a whole lot of time to go searching. Not to mention the ridiculous price of rentals in Abu Dhabi. Wish Dubai was a little closer – there are fab apartments there for a fraction of the price. Most people live there for that very reason, and travel here every day. But travelling over 250kms a day doesn’t exactly float my boat.

7. I miss my dogs more than I can describe – especially on weekends.

8. I miss my friends. Have made friends with two guys who also live in the hotel. One is an Aviation Engineer (from Britain) and the other builds rollercoasters (American from Baltimore). They’re both nuts, which is fun.

9. Have plans to go skiing next weekend in Dubai with them. Yup – you heard right. Skiing in Dubai. And Yes, I am talking about snow skiing. Real snow. OK it’s a ski slope in a mall, but with real snow. Check it out: http://www.skidubai.com/

Kay-yakking

The water in the Arabian Gulf is very very salty. Now before all of you chortle over your cup of tea and tell me that all seas are salty, please bear in mind that I have put my little toes into many an ocean: the Indian, the Atlantic, the English Channel AND the Gulf of Mexico. But, never have I experienced the full body exfoliation experience that comes with getting wet in the Arabian Gulf.

We went kayaking (somewhere... can’t be sure exactly), and it was loads of fun. So nice to be in a place where you hear the birds and, when people on the tour stopped yakking, just the sound of your paddles swishing through the water. Peaceful, calm and beautiful on the iridescent turquoise water.

The water is even warmer than in Mozambique, and flat - not a wave in sight. I found out about the tides here - they only rise and fall about 1m every cycle.

The entire tour is about 4-5kms, first through the sea, and then into the mangrove forests, which are “untouched” by humans and in their natural state. The reason I use the word “untouched” so reluctantly, is that the first part of the tour entails paddling through a channel that has been dredged to allow boats to go through. You can clearly see what damage this is doing to the natural banks. Even though the tides are so mild, every time a boat comes screeching through, it creates waves that are bit by bit creating serious damage to the natural vegetation on the shoreline. The tour company we went with keep sandbags on the edge of certain areas to prevent more erosion. But it is pretty much too little too late.

The mangrove forest channels themselves are wonderful. Crabs of various sizes and colours absolutely everywhere. Birds (herons, egrets, osprey...) are everywhere. For how long though, is the question. For me, the saddest and most unconsidered part of dredging the new channels is that it has put the fate of all fish in the Arabian Gulf in serious jeopardy. No research is available yet, but it’s estimated that 70% of all the indigenous fish spawn in the mangroves, and with the vast amount of boat traffic nearby, one can’t help think that this is all going to end very badly. There are projects around that are trying their best to fix this problem, and before I make any more judgements, I will be sure to do some more research.

But back to the exfoliation. It only happens once you dry off. And then your skin begins to form a crust of salt. Sticky and icky. You really feel attractive. Thank goodness for hotel showers and their complimentary “soothing body gels”. Took a whole lot of moisturiser to stop feeling like my skin was about to crack open. On the bright side, I’m sure my top layer of skin needed removing anyway.

And my arm muscles have proven that they DO still exist, even though the reminder is somewhat painful.

Official tour of Abu Dhabi

So, there wasn’t exactly a queue at the Gold-Bar dispensing Auto Teller Machine when we went to the Emirates Palace Hotel on our official Abu Dhabi tour yesterday. Dis.a.point.ed. I was hoping to see an actual little nugget, in the little packet that it comes out in, all shiny and stuff.

Fortunately that was the only unimpressive moment on the tour - the rest was incredible. You’ll notice that in one of the photos I am wearing an Abaya (black robe-dress-thing) and a Shiela (the scarf-thing). How the Australians got involved in this I’m not too sure.. Anyway, we had to cover ourselves up for our visit to the Mosque. And yes, it is very very hot under those things. You sweat like a ... well you sweat a lot. Let’s leave it at that.

But, what an experience! This mosque is the biggest in the world next to the one in Mecca. It also lays claim to having the largest chandelier and the largest carpet in the world. I may be shot down in flames for saying this, but to me the building is something Disney would have created. It reminds me of the palace in Disneyworld. I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing. I think the palace in Disneyworld is amazing. The difference is that the Mosque probably cost a hundred times more. This is a city where all that glitters IS gold. I could go on for hours about the exquisite attention to detail, the huge ceilings with their intricate designs, but I’ve decided to post a few photos for your viewing pleasure instead.

We then visited the most expensive and exclusive hotel in the world - the above-mentioned Emirates Palace. Personally, I found it ostentatious and over-the-top - a very obvious display of the wealth of this Emirate. But, to their credit, they do have a “Camelcino” on their menu - a cuppucino with camel milk - which is noteworthy, I think. Oh, and the “normal” cappucino costs AED45 (about R90). Before you gasp at the outrageous price, consider that real gold flakes adorn the froth. Now you don’t get that everyday!

For me, the highlight of the tour was where we got to see the most extraordinary views of the city. Abu Dhabi is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. And yes, the sea really really is that colour and that crystal clear.

It’s our day off today, so I’m going on a canoe tour through the mangroves. I can’t wait. Have such a desperate need to be in nature - somewhere where aren’t buildings. And am SO looking forward to actually being in an ocean again. Yahoo!

Newspaper headlines and other things

Newspapers here are interesting. Along with all the usual politics, art & culture, sport, and business sections you’d expect, every now and then your eye stumbles upon an article that reminds you that you’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. I had to share some of them...

It’s incredibly hot here. And as I keep saying: it’s apparently not even the real summer yet. The temperature gauge in the car only registered 35 degrees when we left the office at 6pm this evening. Think about it. It can get to 55 degrees. That’s 20 DEGREES HIGHER THAN THIS!!! Oh dear God.

On another note, Grand Prix-Opening-Ticket-Sales-Fever-Season has begun here. If anyone is interested in buying tickets, you can expect to fork out AED1200 for a 2-day pass. Double that in ZAR and you’ve got yourself seats to the loudest show in town! (Apparently they even serve alcohol inside the circuit..)

Speaking of shows, I missed Harry Connic Jnr last weekend. So many international artists come out here, and because they’re sponsored by the government, the tickets are actually pretty affordable.

Have had a hectic couple of days at work and am completely exhausted. Thank goodness tomorrow is Thursday (read Friday to all of you people in the normal world). And to make it even better, our official “Cultural Tour of Abu Dhabi” (courtesy of our company) is happening in the morning. Will be sure to take LOADS of pictures. Can’t wait.

The richest city in the world...

I apparently live in the richest city in the world. It is a construction site at the moment, a city that’s literally being built from the sand up, but the wealthiest place on Earth nonetheless.

However, progress is not happening as fast as it did in Dubai(which led to the crash). All the plans are in place (and they’re incredible... just google ‘Abu Dhabi 2030 Plan’ and you’ll get the picture) to make it one of the most beautiful and exciting destinations in the world. But things in this Emirate are far more considered. It is going to be astounding though. Masdar City, a new development here, will be the first zero carbon, zero waste city in the world once it’s built - a combination of insane engineering, the most cutting edge technology available to the human race, and a huge amount of foresight and wisdom.

Abu Dhabi alone produces almost 10% of the entire world’s oil supply (you know, the stuff that has messed up the planet, contributed to global warming around which the world revolves - enormous carbon-footprint generator and contributor) - AND it’s only about 67 500 square kilometers big! (As a comparison, South Africa is well over a million square kilometers.) Tiny place. HUGE cash-flow that all comes from that black stuff under the sand’s surface. But they think big here. And they really actually seem to care about the environment.

It’s not actually that far-fetched to comprehend that the Arabs give a damn about the land itself. Less than 40 years ago, Abu Dhabi was little more than an oasis and the people that lived here were Bedouins. You’ve got to admire those folk. Seriously. Them and Eskimos. Why oh why would you even want to live in places of such harsh extremities? There are loads of other places on our planet that are much, much easier to live in.

Anyway, survive the Bedouins did, thanks in no small part to their connection with the animals and plants of the region. There’s centuries of heritage here and the government regularly pays homage to the land that sustained them for so long before the discovery of oil.

Enough with the philosophical history lesson, but still on the topic of the richest city in the world: Yesterday an ATM machine that dispenses gold bars was unveiled at the Emirates Palace Hotel. Thank goodness! I was getting worried because I couldn’t find anywhere that would give me my daily fix of bullion.

Don’t believe me? Check it out.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/middleeast/unitedarabemirates/7720491/The-ATM-that-dispenses-gold-bars.html

Everyone who comes to the UAE to work, regardless of what job you do, has to undergo an obligatory medical exam. This is what I spent most of the day doing. What it entails is having to sit in a queue at a government hospital (rooms separated into male and female) and wait till they call your number. Then they give you a chest x-ray (checking for TB) and take your blood to make sure you are a) not HIV-positive, b) don’t have hepatitis or c) not pregnant. If they tick the “yes” box on any of the above you are taken to the airport immediately- do not pass the hotel, do not pack your stuff, they’ll send it later - and put you on the next plane home. Unless , of course, you are unmarried and pregnant, in which case you go straight to the chookie. I kid you not (no pun intended). It’s a criminal offence to be with child without husband.

Anyway, I had the most wonderful weekend. Went to Dubai with surrogate aunt JTI. She has an amazing apartment with a view of the Burj Khalifa - the tallest building in the world. Dubai is a remarkable city, completely different to Abu Dhabi. To think that most of it was built only in the last 8 years, a feet that no other place in the world can lay claim to, is pretty darn remarkable. In less than a decade it has become one of the most vibrant, bustling cities on the planet with skyscrapers and state-of-the-art architecture.

I must admit though that I didn’t think Dubai was terribly “bustling” when we first drove in. There are loads of cars on the roads, but it took me a while to figure out that there was something a little odd about the place.... there are no people on the street (OK except two lost souls who looked suspiciously Australian to me) and the shop doors are all closed. The penny did eventually drop that it’s hot and everyone is indoors under the cover of aircon. Yes, yes, it’s that slow South African ex-pat thing again...

JTI and I had a fabulous time. She’s been living here for 5 years, so she really knows her way around. She took me for breakfast at The Creek - which is on the Dubai Golf Course - tres larney (see the photo with the, erm, small little boats and you’ll get the vibe). Great place, even a nice breeze to go with it AND they served pork sausages & bacon with our brekkie!

Took a very short (3-hour) trip around the Mall of the Emirates. Could have spent an entire day at the Virgin Megastore. And if you want to know what a Gucci store smells like ........ hmmmmmmmmmm....... unfortunately they haven’t invented internet scratch-n-sniff yet, but I’m pretty sure it’s the aroma of style, the most expensive leather in the world, and lots and lots of money. (You should have - high pitched squeak - seen the shoes!!!!!!!)

Unfortunately, we didn’t have the whole day to potter around the mall. It’s so big, you need days to navigate it. In fact there is a saying that if you try on a pair of jeans when you get to the mall and they don’t fit - don’t panic! By the time you’ve walked through it all, you’ll have dropped a dress-size!

After surveying the merchandise on offer at the mall I now have a dilemma of epic proportion on my hands: Gucci or Prada sunglasses? The glare is very bad here, you know. And one has to protect one’s eyes.

It's the weekend, baby!

Yahoo! Busy weekend ahead. Tonight (as I mentioned yesterday) is the seafood buffet at the Rotana Hotel on Yas Island. Can’t wait to taste the local fish, which I am told is really great. The price includes a glass of veenho. Methinks I should sample a little French vintage tonight....

Tomorrow I am off to Dubai to spend the night with my surrogate aunt who lives there. She’s picking me up and taking me on a tour. Can’t wait!!! Will no doubt be taking many many photographs Japanese tourist style.

Saturday night is a work function. Our sister channel (the Arabic channel) is hosting an evening to introduce us all to the local traditional foods and filming it for an insert on TV. We’re apparently going to be sitting on the floor (as is customary), and will be served a four-course meal consisting of delicacies like Majbous Hamour , Majbous Meat, Saloonah on Rgag ,Majbos Robyan, and Lgemat for desert.

I haven’t a clue either. But I will be sure to report back.

O dear

Crisis. I don’t know my blood type.

And whilst this may not seem like something to be concerned about, this little bit of information is standing between me getting my resident’s permit, my computer, and (most importantly) my company BlackBerry.

It’s either O+ or 0-. I think. Are they really that different anyway? What happens if I just pick one or the other?

On another note.... work is fab. The people are amazing and talented and the environment is wonderfully creative and stimulating. So much to do and the possibilities are endless...

Here’s some interesting Abu Dhabi things I have discovered:

• Palmito. My new favourite vegetable. Also known as the “swamp cabbage” or “palm heart” (this discovered after extensive consultation with the Oracle, Google). Had it in a salad yesterday. Tastes kind of like artichoke and asparagus combined. Delicious. I have subsequently discovered that these plants are endangered in the wild. Hope it was a cultivated one I was eating....

• Second-hand cars cost less than an average monthly salary. No jokes. And I’m talking, like, a Rav4 - not a Corsa Lite 2001 model. Am going to have to get my head around driving on the other side of the road, so I can drive and not rely on lifts. And have my drivers licence translated into Arabic (dying to see what my name looks like in this alphabet!). But that’s all it takes.

• On car sales, insurance is usually thrown in for free for a year. And it’s not much either. No theft risk. Only accident cover. Ponder that for a bit folks......

• SA banks need to catch a wake-up. The interest rate here is perfectly acceptable. You don’t feel like you’re getting ripped off and end up paying 3 times what the value of your purchase is. Kind of like: “OK, you’re giving me the loan, thanks for that, of course you can have a bit extra for all your trouble!”. Only downside to getting a loan is that you (apparently) have to write a blank cheque to cover the unlikely event of your debit order bouncing. If they cash the cheque and that bounces, the police come a’ lookin’.... And then it’s criminal and you’re screwed.

• The women here are beautiful. My boss aptly says:”they don’t walk, they float...” I was on the balcony having a cigarette today and met quite possibly the most exquisite girl I have ever seen. She’s Egyptian. I’m talking supermodel tall and intimidatingly drop-dead. She’s a production co-ordinator for another channel.

• The weird light is due to the dust. (OK OK I should have guessed that. But hey! I’m new here and clearly a little slow.)

• The South Africans behind the hotel bar are still amazing. Only been here 3 days, but each time I come in they bring me my standard sun-downer automatically: a glass of dry white (with ice and soda) and a coke lite. They very clearly want the SA connection as much as I do. “So, how was your first day at work?”. “Did you finish your proposal?” And they shake my hand in our way and we chat for half an hour about home and how much we miss it. Apparently all the good customer-service oriented South Africans work here.

• The food in general is un-freaking-believable. I am having to stop myself trying everything in sight and attempt to swim 10 laps in the pool every morning (I’ll do that tomorrow, I promise). In the office, the talk is generally of food and the amazing cuisine everyone has discovered. And the snack du jour? Dates stuffed with cashew nuts. You don’t understand.... Tomorrow night is “Seafood buffet night” at a colleague’s 5-star hotel. AED120- eat all you want. (DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONVERT CURRENCY IN TO ZAR. I REPEAT: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONVERT - you’ll go mad). But we are going for what is known as the most incredible feast ever. Crayfish tails until you can’t anymore, all made by world-class chefs.

• There are pigeons and mosquitoes everywhere. Dammit.

No frame of reference....

First day of work. The production office is situated in a theatre... seriously. A magnificent, ornate Arabian theatre by the sea! And speaking of the sea, this ocean is very very different to anything I have ever seen before. Because of all the reclaimed land, little channels of water literally snake in and around buildings and developments. Not a wave in sight and I can’t visibly distinguish any tides (will have to learn more about this...). Actually, I have absolutely no frame of reference for anything here, which makes it all so hard to describe. Even the light here is different. The sky isn’t blue - it’s almost the same colour as the white, white sand. It looks overcast, but it’s not. Many of the buildings come in various shades of sand. Even the grass is sandy-coloured. This lack of colour is somewhat disturbing for someone who comes from a country where (it now seems) everything is in vivid technicolour. The landscape is flat, flat, flat. But it’s not without its beauty. It’s kind of uncomplicated. A simple landscape for a region of the world that is so culturally and politically complex, I’m told that a lifetime of study wouldn’t be enough for me to understand it.

It also reached 45 degrees today - and it’s not even close to the middle of summer yet. Can’t wait for that.

The hotel I’m staying at is divine. The view from my room is the Grand Prix Circuit and is also next to the new “Ferrari Theme Park” which is due to open in October. This amusement park will house the biggest/fastest/allegedly-most-awesomest roller-coaster on the planet. I shall be avoiding it at all costs. But wish I could live in this hotel. Sigh...

Went out for supper with my new boss and some colleagues last night. And whadda ya know... working behind the bar was Palesa (from Soweto), Jack (from Tembisa) and Ross (from Cape Town). South Africans are clearly colonising the Middle East. Not sure if I should be afraid or not.

By the way... the top picture is the view from my hotel room - the GP circuit is the funny tent-like construction in the background. The 2nd picture is of the hotel pool - gorgeous, but not very refreshing.

First day in Abu Dhabi

Am sitting at my hotel next to the (infinity) pool drinking lots of (superb, freshly-ground, 24-hours free) coffee.

It’s so hot and humid that it makes Durban seem like an air-conditioned airport terminal. In fact, if there was an award for “The Hottest and Stickiest City in the World”, Abu Dhabi would win hands down. Great marketing opportunity for Shield, Axe or Sanex. Someone should tell them.

Anyhow, seeing as though my colleague and I only arrived at 1am this morning, we’ve had the day off. Whoo Hoo! went to the mall, drooled through the Ikea store and Gap, and got ripped off by two taxi drivers - all this in one day!

Also pottered about the supermarket. Saw vegetables I have never seen or heard of in my life (pineapple tomatoes anyone???). Next time will take my camera. Sure it’s perfectly acceptable for tourists to take pictures of the fresh produce.