Another Slice of Petra

My 40th birthday dawned, bright and clear. The forecast had been for rain but when we peered out of the window it was a sunny day with an amazing blue sky. We raced down to breakfast, then out of the hotel to the gates of the National Park. It was bloody cold! It's strange - living here in the UAE, I haven't experienced cold ears for 6 months.

We walked off down the pathway towards the Siq. It was quite a contrast to the night before. The place was buzzing with Jordanian horsemen galloping up and down, offering rides to The Siq or a donkey to The Treasury. Most of the donkeys were tiny and I felt that if I were to get on one, my feet would drag on the ground. Poor little donkeys. For some reason that I can't explain, I'm a huge donkey fan. Bizarre. They have such a rubbish lot in life don't they? All that toil and burden. Yet they plod on and on with such calm docility, with the occasional bout of cranky, stubborn refusal, but who wouldn't in their situation? Before I move on to the rest of the day I need to make a note about the Jordanian horsemen... Yowsers! Those boys were seriously worth watching for a bit. So we did... Apart from their obvious skill at handling such noble beasts, they were HOT! Maybe it was just the manly and commanding way that they controlled their horses - a lot of them riding bareback - we felt giddy each time one of them romped up to us and offered a ride.

Anyway, after regaining our composure we continued our walk to The Siq. The following were some sights along the way.

This is the entrance to a tomb. There are lots of them carved into the sandstone hills surrounding Petra.

This building really reminds of something from The Flintstones.

This is the entrance to The Siq. It used to have an enormous arch between the two cliffs. It looks fairly unimposing, which was the point. For centuries after the city was abandoned it was kept a secret; Bedouins used to defend it and deter strangers from discovering it.

This is me in The Siq. Some of it has large cobbles, other parts has just sand. It's uneven and at times quite narrow. As you can see, it was almost empty because it's winter.

This is part way along The Siq. It's unusual as it's one of the few tombs in The Siq itself.

At last! The end of The Siq and The Treasury is almost in view.

It's an amazing, magical kind of place. This is only one tiny part of it. The ravine opens up to an enormous vallley surrounded on all sides by cliffs and mountains, all carved with buildings and tombs. Most of them aren't as well preserved as The Treasury but the detail and work in the carving is stunning.

Now that I'm home, it all seems like a dream. It's worth a visit. Do it now before it all turns to dust. Apparently, in summer it's now so popular that it has the same amount of visitors as the Pyramids in Cairo. In winter the place feels like it's all yours. Special.

Cake...with far too many candles

Ok. My life has, according to ancient lore, officially started. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about it so I avoided thinking about it until it actually happened. Now that I'm here at this age, the view isn't any different. Phew!

To celebrate my monumental coming of age I decided that, as my friends were all so far away (see previous post), I would sneak off somewhere fabulous to contemplate what being 40 really means. I chose Petra as a perfect spot for such thoughts.

Did I choose right? Well, no, not really. Why? It's just too stunning to have anything else in your head. Really. It's mind-blowing.

Many - oh heck! MANY - years ago whilst watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade I thought "what a cool location - where did they build that?" When I found out it's a real place I was determined that I'd get there eventually.

Last weekend, I packed my hat, my whip and my passport and headed to Amman, Jordan. We arrived in a sandstorm and could hardly see beyond the bonnet of the car that collected us to drive the 2.5 hour journey to Petra. The driver explained that the highway was closed so we'd have to drive a more circuitous route, which would take approx. 4 hours. We both groaned. Not only because a 4 hour car journey with deafening Jordanian music is enough to weaken the toughest resolve but because we (well.. I) had our hearts set on seeing Petra by night - more on this later.

Anyway, the driver zoomed off at terrifying speed through the shifting walls of sand whilst chatting to friends and family on his mobile - heaven only knows how they could hear each other. After 20 minutes of driving we stopped for some better mobile reception and the driver announced that the highway 'might' be open so we'd risk it but take it slow. He slowed down to the snail-like pace of 140kph and we plunged on into the red-brown dust. The driving was worthy of stunt car status and the road unworthy to be called 'road'. However, we pulled up at the hotel at 6pm - two and a half hours before the Petra by Night walk. Hurray! The driver even called ahead to hold some tickets - he had a space between calls.

We checked out the hotel - Arabian, tiles, fountains, lamps, palm trees - and then walked to the entrance of the national park. It was a chilly night, I'd had beer to celebrate our arrival, I needed to pee...

Our guide explained we should walk single file, follow the candles and don't leave the trail ("wish I'd brought my whip" I thought...)

The walk to Petra is a couple of miles long, most of which is through the 'Siq' a large natural ravine cutting through the desert. There were candles set out along the whole route and we walked in silence until we got to the entrance of the ravine, where we were held for a few minutes whilst the guide flashed his torch ahead to another guide to make sure the candles were lit so we could find our way. The ravine is quite narrow in places and the footing uneven. The whiff of donkey poo was quite apparent too - during the day, you can ride a donkey to save your weary legs. There was some very careful walking...

It was so dark as there was no moon so we only had the candlelight to follow. The ravine ends quite abruptly, unexpectedly, and we tumbled out into the opening right in front of The Treasury bathed in a hazy, ghostly glow of candles and mist. I was so excited, it was so beautiful, I felt a bit emotional - what a girl! But really! It literally took my breath away. Entertainingly, the only sound to be heard was a grumpy feral cat that had been disturbed by our arrival. It set up a right din but it all added to the atmosphere.

This picture is the only one that I could get with any detail. It was so dark, I was too excited and my camera obviously wasn't up to the task. You get the idea anyway.

We were invited to sit on reed mats and given mint tea whilst a local Bedouin played his flute, then our guide told us a local folk story. Then it was time to go. I didn't want to. The only thing that made it ok to leave was the knowledge I'd be back the next day, my birthday, to see it in broad daylight. I was also absolutely bursting to pee. The walk back seemed like an eternity. What with dodging donkey dung and walking carefully so I didn't pee my pants! Yowsers.

I'll post about the next day soon as this one is already a bit of a ramble.

Big Cake

Hmm... Where to start...? It's all a blur.

OK. The weekend. I got home from work on Thursday evening (weekends here are Friday and Saturday) and TOH was blustering about telling me we had to be ready to leave the apartment at 7.15pm sharp. I was a bit baffled as TOH is the world's most rubbish time-keeper and being hurried along by him was something especially alien to our lives.

Obviously we were late - despite rushing me, he couldn't help but ignore his own advice. I was hustled off to the Emirates Palace - an enormous swanky-as-ya-like hotel on the sea-front and was given a cocktail whilst TOH prattled into his phone to our friend Phil who was running late. Phil is never late. Phil likes booze too much and anything that cuts down on valuable drinking time is against all Phil holds dear. Phil arrived. Without Laura, his wife (also strange as Laura loves booze only a little bit less than Phil). After some extensive and incredibly pointless blathering on from Phil about Laura's tardy arrival my suspicions were tingling - let's call it 'cake-senses'. I needed another drink - it'd been one of those weeks - so I ordered one and then popped off to the gents. On my return Phil had disappeared to 'meet Laura and the girls' and my fresh drink had been snatched away and I was being jostled along away from my seat. Not only were my suspicions aroused but I was getting bloody cranky! All this shoving about and depriving me of a drink was really giving me the arse!

We moved on to another bar (Emirates Palace is enormous and has many). Laura was sat at the bar with Jane and Jess. All of them had nearly finished their drinks. How come? Laura was supposed to have been running late. Hmmm. I asked for a drink and someone offered to get me one. After some polite chit-chat my drink still hadn't arrived. It still hadn't been ordered. I decided to get one myself and was about to hop off my bar stool when some woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I could pass her the cocktail menu. Weirdly, she bore a strong resemblance to my friend Jayne. She was with a woman who looked like my friend Julie. They were smiling at me strangely. It just didn't add up and people were taking photos whilst I stood dazed and confused. It wasn't right. Jayne and Julie live in London. I needed a bit of a sit down whilst everyone guffawed and proclaimed this was the first time they've ever seen me speechless. Jayne gave me her drink. Thank fuck for that!

Next week it's my birthday. It's a significant one. Because most of my friends live a long way away I didn't see any point in having a massive event, so I decided I'd like to go to Petra to see the whole place lit with candlelight on my 40th birthday instead.

TOH agreed and booked it all for me. However, he had other plans for the weekend before my actual birthday and flew some of my friends out to celebrate. How he managed to keep it all a secret is beyond me - his ability to keep secrets is worse than his ability to keep time.

Amazing.

Everyone left this morning. When I got home from work this afternoon it only really dawned on me that my friends have just been here for the weekend and now they're gone. I felt happy and yet really sad. When I moved here I missed them all quite badly. I'd gotten over it but now, after this weekend...

Sand - wich anyone?

Yikes. Something wierd must be going on. My second post in less than a week. Unless I'm careful, I could turn into some kind of serial blogger.

I was aimlessly drifting to my car - read being swept along on a gritty, stiff breeze - after work one evening earlier this week and I thought I'd take a few snaps of the view from my office. Well, not actually my office. My office doesn't have any windows and has my team of ten squashed into the space of a Honda Civic. What I mean, is the building in which my office is contained. It was such a lovely evening I simply had to share.

Here you go... go on! Drink it all in and enjoy...

That view! It's a beaut ain't it?! Until a week ago (when the car park was actually finished) that flat bit in front of the sandy hummocks was where I had to park my car. My shoes were buggered.

I know, I know. It makes me emotional to look at it too. Imagine what it's like in reality? Can you possibly imagine? I'll bet you can't.

You can almost smell the cranes can't you? I'm a lucky guy. I get to see this every day. Anyone who wants to come stay is very welcome, but I warn ya... book ahead, it's gonna be soooo busy.

Here's a pic of one of my fave landmarks in Dubai - no, really. I actually do like this one. I didn't at first, but now I kinda like it. Possibly beacause it scares me. It's currently the tallest building in the world. And it's not even finished yet! gulp!

Sooo shiny.

over-indulgence

Yikes.

I did it again. But not in a Britney way. Actually, no. That's not entirely true. I gave it some serious Britney, but without the kids and the total minger of an ex-husband. I'm even bald, although that's not a conscious or favourable decision.

This evening I've been out on the razz. Nothing new there. However, this is Abu Dhabi and therefore anything more exciting than the shipping forecast is breaking news, so my evening is worthy of a post.

Granted, I'm slightly frayed by a trying week so I was vulnerable to rose wine, amaretto and then beer. But. This does not explain why I ended up in a nightclub full of sweaty old ex-pats and Filipino trannies and hookers. No-one was more surprised than me! Then again, no-one adpated as quickly as I did plus the band were quite fun. After a few belters of soft-rock I was more than happy to sway on the spot and chuckle at the shenanigans going on around me - desperate blokes trying to persuade hookers with enough cash to say "no thanks" is an interesting thing to observe. Back to that in a min. Let's discuss the band...

A drummer (I'd love to be a drummer), a man wrenching noise from a guitar, a frustrated Iron Maiden wannabe lead singer and five (yes five) unbelievably ropey scrubbers standing about in muffin top trousers and gauzy tops, thrashing nasty hair extensions around with little attention or care for the music. The crowd were enthralled. I was convinced that the booze was spiked. It had to be. Everyone seemed to think the band were good enough to fill Wembley stadium - my beer bottle seemed to be permanently empty. The applause was deafening, the tsunami of love for the band was unfathomable.

It was weird. The band was totally pants. Yet... I kinda liked it. No-one cared. It was one of the ugliest crowds that's possible outside a maximum security psychiatry unit. But still, no-one cared. Everyone was getting on with having a good time/counting how much cash they had left to 'enjoy' the lady with the false leg/attempting to find a beat to dance to.

I literally reek of fags and booze. My life here has made me shift gear. I used to love bars and clubs that had an element of cool. I liked being part of something that was cutting edge, new and ever changing. I guess I still do. Here? Pfft! That kind of lifestyle is 10-15 years away in this city - longer now that the global economic downturn has halted all development. But I've decided to get my fun where I can find it. It's hidden away, it's hard to find but I'm using my best sleuthing techniques to dig it out. I haven't even begun to explain the scene for 'gentlemen' in Dubai... that's a whole other post.

TOH was a hit with the ladies (nothing new there). I'm sure he could have had any number of freebies had he been inclined. I live life in Ugly Betty Corner so even the whores breezed past without a glance (note to self, must try to appear wealthy). It was fun. I enjoyed myself. It's not the kind of evening out I'd choose often, but once in a while it felt good to let loose in a place where no-one cares what you do unless you're paying them to.

Broken cake

Well.

Here it is, a brand-spanking, shiny new year. Hold on. Scratch that. It's already slightly tarnished by January.

I realise I haven't posted for near eternity and the cake of my blog is dry, crumbly and seriously undernourished. Bad me! I'd like to say that I shall start afresh and promise to be a much better blogger, but it would be a whopper of a fib and none of the stalwart readers who are still faithful enough to drop in from time to time would believe me. So. I promise that I'll try.

In my post before Christmas I asked for suggestions. I will get to them but thought an update would be a good idea.

I still live in Abu Dhabi. "So what?!" I hear. But since my arrival 5 months ago - can't believe it's been that long already - there have been many times when I have wanted to dump the whole thing and return to London where I felt safe, secure and understood. Now? I feel different. I've moved into a new apartment, I can unpack my things - my pc being one of them - I can feel that I'm at least slightly settled in my own 'home'. I have also realised that Dubai is so close that as soon as I require a weekend of sin and debauchery we just hop in to the car and head to the Vegas of the east (without casinos obviously!).

It's not perfect here. I don't love it, I don't think I ever will but now I guess it's manageable and in times of very crunchy credit I do realise I'm better off here than so many others elsewhere. I even have a man who washes my car every morning so it's super shiny when I whizz out from our parking garage into the dusty streets, getting it all dirty again to make tomorrow's wash worthwhile. I think I may have found my sense of humour, some enthusiasm and a ray of hope whilst digging through boxes of treasures to unpack. Phew.

Now that I have somewhere to live, have access to my stuff and I'm perkier about the place, I'll take some photos and post them soon.

What else...? Work. Hmmm... work is pants. Isn't it always?! This is bad pants though. Awful saggy arsed, chewing gum grey pants with frayed elastic. It's not panning out how I expected. I can't deny that I actually do hate it. But. I promised TOH that I wouldn't get upset about it or complain any more. Every day is so bad that it's just becoming the norm. The other day whilst driving to work I wondered if this is what it's like being bullied. Hating something so much that you just want to drive straight past and pretend it's something that never really existed - or not actually leave home at all. I'm not so delicate as all that though so I'm toughing it out. Fortunately, I'm as stubborn as a grumpy old donkey so I refuse to let it beat me - I hate to lose too.

My plan to lose about 14,000 kilos isn't actually going to plan either but I've eaten salad this week so that's a start! I just need to eat it every day. For about the next 20 years. The gym-on-the-roof is massive and incredibly well stocked with useful machinery and devices - so I'm reliably informed by a muscle-bound, health-freak Abu Dhabi friend. They all look kinda the same to me so I'll need a guided tour and a full orientation day - I'll take a packed lunch and some magazines in case it gets too upsetting. I need to motivate myself. I have one month to begin my transformation, as I shall be hitting a certain age very soon and at this weight I'm liable to take out a few city blocks when that impact occurs. If I trim down a bit I can minimise damage and possibly fit into my clothes to celebrate my life actually starting, as befits folk-lore, and I intend to continue the health plan for all my remaining days. I love a positive plan... pfft.

So. That's me. Is it time for beer?

New on the menu...

A man is installing my pc. Right now! Another is building my desk whilst yet another is bolting my chair together. Good times!! None of them are in the least bit attractive, so watching their labours isn't at all entertaining. Bad times.

The outcome of such industry is that I will soon be properly connected to the world. I shall post again. I'll have access to iTunes. The joy!

I'm giddy. No really. Totally giddy. I need a lie down before I hurt myself...

Christmas Cracker

I know, I know. It's been a long time since my last post. I'm struggling with doing it lately. I'm busy at work, I'm busy still settling in, I'm busy putting on ever so much weight. I don't know where the time goes. Maybe I could get some extra time in a special box for Christmas that I can plug in when I'm feeling short...?

Right then. Haven't got a clue what to post about as there's been tons of random, mainly uninteresting stuff going on. I could ramble on about it but it would be a waste of eye-energy for you all and would suck up time that you could be using to panic about not having got a present for Aunt Maude or worrying that your experimental stuffing recipe may be received badly.

So. Why don't you tell me what you'd like me to write about? I did this ages and ages ago and it gave me stuff to write about for loads of posts.

Let's face it, from recent performance, it's unlikely I'll get another post in before Christmas so Merry Christmas to anyone who happens to be passing by my blog and a Happy New Year.

*just realised... I could have done a post about my trip to India. Bugger! I've gone and worn myself out now! I'll do a post about it soon.

Peanut Butter & Jam Sandwich

Hmmm... Just had one. A peanut butter & jam sandwich, that is. The shops here have all sorts of weird and wonderful things in them from all corners of the globe (apart from nice tea - Liptons is about it... bleeearrgghh...) and whilst meandering the aisles seeking inspiration my gaze settled on a jar of... peanut butter AND jam. In one jar. Who knew!? I was intrigued. I bought a jar. I took to it with a spoon in the kitchen on arrival back at the apartment, frozen food left defrosting and puddling all over the tiles. I was concerned that the jam would be in lumps or blobs at random locations throughout the jar. Not so. There was an even swirl of jam - all the way to the bottom of the jar. I know this because I dug quite a way down. All in the sake of culinary discovery, you understand. Now then. The jar has lasted for about 3 weeks. The past weekend I popped to the local shop (read, Aladdin's cave of assorted spices, dusty boxes of cereal, bizarre brands of aftershave, razors and hilariously branded Indian and Arabic condoms) for some bread. All that was left was milk loaf. I hadn't had milk loaf for years. For those not in the know, milk loaf is very white, uber soft, squashy bread with hardly any crusts. Kids always love it. I threw some peanut butter & jam on it. I nearly exploded with pleasure. The jar is empty, the bread is gone (quite possibly soon followed by my teeth)

sigh....

Other news in brief

• I have a cold. Typical. I come all the way to the desert and get a cold. It's 30 bloody degrees outside


• Work is pants, causing me to feel like I'm on some kind of sickening rollercoaster. One minute everything's on the up and I feel like laughing my tits off, the next minute it's vile, and I feel like flinging myself from a moving carriage rather than carry on with the journey


• It turned out sunny here again


• I'm off on holiday next week! I'm going to Kerala in India for some R & R. A bit of a hippy trip will hopefully brighten me up and have me feeling sprightly


• It's nearly Christmas and I haven't seen a single bauble yet. It's not really an official holiday here (I'm working Christmas Day) and there is no jolly festive music jingling anywhere. I'm missing yuletide spirit. Harrumph!


• I have discovered a new love for potato smiley faces. Is that wrong?

Fruit Salad

… it’s what I’ve just had for lunch. My experiments in self-restraint and portion control have been aided today by my fruit salad containing about half a kilo of papaya. Cue retching noises and curled lip expression. I don’t get it, why would anyone like papaya? Then again, I feel pretty much the same about mango. I now have a tin hat on to take the flak from aghast and outraged Australians. Anyone would they they invented the bloody things the way they clank on about them… Hello Australia. You know I think you're lovely.

I’m struggling with the healthy eating thing here but I’m not giving up. Yesterday I signed up to a health club at one of the fancy local hotels, so that I can use the gym. Of course I made full use of my membership immediately by flinging myself on to a sunbed and launching into my book for an afternoon’s seaside reading with my toes dug into the sand. Turned out that the desert had separate ideas and decided to whip up a sandstorm. I was ok on the beach but a little inland, everything was being bullied by super strong, unpleasantly gritty winds. My car was covered in sand and I was filled with gloom at the prospect of having to stop off and have it tickled with dusters for a small eternity before having it washed – prevents the paintwork from being scratched y’see.

Nature had other plans about my car’s well-being, in a good way. I woke up this morning and it was still dark. “strange” thinks I, whilst nibbling at some low fat porridge oats. I looked out of the window (only wearing pants – it was still dark, I felt like dallying with danger) to ponder when the sun would rise and discovered that a heavy bank of cloud had descended over the city. Weird! When I left the building to go to my car a fine mist was drifting about. Weirder! By the time I got to my car, big fat, extremely wet drops of rain were splashing all over the place and I was soaked.

The concept of drainage here is one that hasn’t ever really occurred to anyone so the rain water that was pelting down for an hour lay in enormous lakes all over the roads and made driving treacherous. Drivers here don’t have the first idea of road safety anyway so no-one slowed down to less then 140kph, hence the 4 serious accidents I saw on my journey. It made me feel extremely edgy, attempting to drive safely whilst everyone else threw caution to the wind (and rain) and ended up in ditches, through concrete barriers or rolled onto their sides in smoking, twisted metal disasters – all of which I saw today.

On the up side. On arrival at work, my car was absolutely sparkling!

Irritatingly, my shiny wet car was then exposed to sandy gusts of wind, and by home time had turned from glossy black to dusty beige. Pah!

BUT. My journey home was lifted by “Beat Surrender” by The Jam on the radio and an absolutely corking sunset. I felt positively smiley.

small snack

A haiku

Rose gold winter sky.

Desert sunset lifts my heart

and lights a new smile.

Dietary Requirements

Right. It's been a while (again) and I promised in my last post that I'd try and highlight some of the positives of living in UAE.

First though, I'll give an update for anyone who's still out there and reading, after the months of misery and moan I've been slamming up here.

1. The weather has turned out nice again.


2. Looks like the weather will be turning out nice for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until April time, when it will start to get really hot again but I'll be ready for it then.


3. Work has taken a surprisingly quirky turn and, for the moment anyway, is slightly enjoyable. I'm not sure how long that'll last but at least I don't feel like I'm fighting every day and failing at every attempt. Someone is finally listening.


4. I'm adapting. I'm getting used to not having all of my friends around and focusing on the friends I do have here and also on making new ones - and I'm pretty good at that so instead of bleating on about it I'm getting off my arse and actually trying to work something out.
   

Things have been happening behind the scenes of my UAE life which have made me really think about what I'm doing. It's been a long time since I've taken a lead from my parents and learned something really new about them but they have been able to surprise and inspire me again. I was at home in the UK for a very short weekend last week. The trip was unplanned but necessary and my mum & dad helped me see things in a totally new way. They don't even know they've done anything but the way they've handled a situation that's happening at home has made me proud and given me cause to realise that I can deal with anything that's happening here. I've managed worse and even enjoyed things after. This is no problem.

I feel better now I've given myself a stern talking to. Abu Dhabi needs to step back a bit or I'm going to trample it.

I'm also considering moving to Dubai. The drive to work would take less time - strange, considering I work in Abu Dhabi but city traffic is shocking. The accommodation is cheaper and Dubai has much more choice for a social life as it's a much bigger city with thriving nightlife. Abu Dhabi is only just beginning to establish that aspect of it's new plans for global domination.

The move to Dubai, if it happens, will take a wee while as TOH needs to get to grips with his new job and get himself established before we go charging about the country looking for a new home.

Ok, so what do I like about it here?

• Now, the weather.


• Chicken and chips kebabs - they are amazing.


• I can have everything I could possibly ever need delivered to my door - including chicken and chips kebabs.


• It's a very safe place to live. A friend left his wallet on a table in a restaurant and when he realised and returned, the wallet was still there. Untouched.


• I really like the sound of call to prayer.


• It's tax free!!!!


• The TV is rubbish - I'm forced to read more, eat out more and talk more.

The problems with the above are that most of them lead, in some way, to the accumulation of far too much extra padding. I've gained 6k in 2 months. Clothes are tightening and flesh is beginning to spill over the tighter areas of cloth. It's far too upsetting to contemplate. The gym on the top floor is being ignored - if I had to pass it in some way I'd probably get a pang of guilt at the very least but I never go up there now. I've made an appointment to join a health club next week in order to rid myself of the extra pounds, plus a few more. I may also have to limit my kebab intake. That's gonna sting but I've brought this upon myself.

So. That's me. I feel better (but quite a bit fatter). To help improve both of these states I'm now going to the beach to get a bit of a tan. If I'm going to be a bucket of lard, it'll look better golden rather than corpse white.

Sun-dried

Hmmm...

Where to start. OK. The beginning. After my last post, things started to get better. The weather has started to cool down, I'm getting used to the place and TOH has returned.

I'm not new at work any more and I'm actually beginning to be able to answer questions without having to consult junior members of my team.

I've been to Dubai for a weekend. Dubai is enormous - not by London standards - but the scale of the place makes it seem like a cartoon. The buildings are unreal. We had a great time and I really thought that this part of the world could be a fun place to live. Sipping cocktails on the outdoor terrace at the top of the Jumeirah Beach hotel was fabulous. The hotel is really narrow at the top so it was like drinking booze on a knife edge but I was already a bit tipsy by then, so it wasn't scary, it felt kinda cool. Well, not cool exactly, it was 29 degrees at 12.30am!

Dubai is very different from Abu Dhabi, more sophisticated and more modern. However, it's also full of British and German holiday makers. In a way that's not a bad thing as the place has more of a holiday feel about it, but it also means that you see the worst drunken behaviour that your country-folk can inflict upon a nation. Abu Dhabi is much smaller and quieter and very few tourists come here. It's more of a business destination than a holiday one.

So. Things are getting better. Or, they were...

This last week has been a bad one. My boss has basically been sidelined and demoted, he was told that he has been replaced. I have been invited to a meeting to discuss the merits and value of my role and my team. 6 weeks in and I'm already having to fight for my job. I understand that business is business and decisions of this nature need to be made. But to do this without letting any of the concerned parties know until the day they are actually bumped out is pretty low. I guess that's the way it works here.

I was out walking the other evening - taxis were bustling about everywhere but for some reason, none were willing to stop and people were literally squabbling in the streets over the few that pulled in. The walk gave me time to think (I was walking to a bar, it took 45 minutes, so I felt I deserved the gallons of beer that I ended up guzzling). My conclusions were that no-one actually comes to this city because it's a place where they really want to live. People are here because of the potential to earn so much more than they could at home. Whilst walking I made a small, private plea to the new place where I live - "please just give me one thing to really, really love about living here". For the past six weeks I've been optimistically bullying myself into the belief that I do like living here but my resolve has started to crumble.

I know that almost everyone goes through similar thoughts and feelings in a new place but I'm feeling it quite keenly lately. I hope I'll learn to like and enjoy living here, I'm sure I will but I don't think I'll ever actually love it like I do London, New York, Sydney, Hong Kong... all places with a soul and a feeling of ... I don't know... something! This place doesn't feel like anything. It's just a concrete and glass grid, built where the desert meets the sea.

I'm a positive person. I'm usually optimistic and foolishly believe that things will always turn out right in the end. This is becoming a big test of the way I see things and how I view the world through my rose-tinted specs. Perhaps this is good. It may teach me a new way to see things and that could help me learn to enjoy this place and what it has to offer.

I promise, whatever happens, that my next post will not be doom and gloom. I'll pick out the small things that have actually made me smile here. I have smiled, I'm never that full of woe!

Ramadan

It's Ramadan where I'm living now. I'm not finding it difficult to cope with (especially as I'm not a muslim and I'm not fasting!). I just need to make sure I don't eat/drink in public. However, the way I'm feeling this week is a kind of social/emotional Ramadan. It's hard for me to sum it up though. I moved here willingly, I actually like it here but I think that everything has finally caught up with me, now, after a month. What have I done?!

TOH is back in UK for a couple of weeks to sort out visa issues and I'm here, in a huge apartment. Alone. I'm finding it difficult. I'm used to having lots of friends around and going out often, socialising, meeting up with the people I like to be with. Now, I go to work, I come home, I eat, read then go to bed, without seeing anyone. I often nip out to the shops for milk or a phone card, just so I can speak to someone in between leaving work and returning to it the next day. The TV here is totally hopeless. I watched the whole of series one of "Heroes" in a few evenings on DVD. I loved it and now I'm whistfully imagining what super power I'd like to have and how I'd use it.

I'm an outgoing, sociable person but I'm finding it tough. The only places to meet others here are either filled with older, sturdier (dare I even say stodgier...?) people or brutish, knuckle dragging sports fans with sweat patches and unnaturally red faces. Neither my kind of scene at all. What to do?

I know that it's just a phase, that I'll adjust and eventually feel settled, but right now I just don't know where, or even if, I fit in.

Buffet

Ok. Just got back from another buffet brunch. This one was great although a bit unplanned as we'd popped out to the Iranian souk to get some plants, and felt a bit peckish on the way home. It's definitely my last buffet brunch for a while though. Really. I mean it.
The Iranian souk was a bit of a surprise. I was expecting crowded little market walkways with lots of bustle and noise. It was quite the opposite. It's on the edge of the port with sea views, all in one line and hardly anyone there. Admittedly it was 36 degrees C and it's ramadan, which means most stores don't open until after sunset. The Iranian souk (as opposed to a hundred other kinds of souk that there are here) mainly sells plants of the thick, shiny, rubbery leaved variety, with a few ferns and orchids here and there, pots, vases and there is a huge kitchen/tupperware section - who knew Iranians would be so keen on keeping the freshness in?!

I'm loving the sound of call to prayer here. This afternoon I was out on the street, on my way to put a down payment on an apartment, when the call started and the streets were filled with the sound of melodious prayer. It really makes me realise I'm living in a totally different place with a totally different culture.

The apartment I'm moving to has a small rooftop pool and a gym. This is a huge relief (and also cause for slight inner panic) as I need to start getting fit. The aforementioned brunches have led to the addage of quite a few pounds - something that's apparently quite common in new arrivals here. So. Off to the gym I go. I do have some inspiration though, as the trainer who works in the gym is a total hottie. This means I'll be popping upstairs frequently for a bit of eye candy. Just need to remember to actually do some exercise whilst I'm there...

My new job is fine but it's all unfamiliar and alien and I feel uncomfortable not knowing anything - especially as I'm the boss. Hopefully it'll feel better soon and I'll be confident in what I'm doing. Before any of that happens, I need to feel confident in driving to work. The driving and traffic here are absolutely shocking. My drive is out of the city and into the desert. Romantic notions of scenic dunes and mindblowing sunsets were soon shattered when I got out into the rock strewn, blasted landscape of flat desert stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction. Hmmm... The sunsets from the city and the beach are much lovelier.

I still don't have my own lap-top or pc and probably won't have until my stuff is shipped. The new apartment is only a temporary measure until we find somewhere with rent that isn't equal to the GDP of a South American nation. That could take a couple of months and then it'll take another couple of months for my stuff to arrive. Living out of a suitcase is only fun if you're on holiday. Sigh.

Whole Roast Chicken

OK. I'm here. It's seriously hot, it's seriously humid. My back has been sweaty for 2 days and my ass has been totally drenched for much of the same time! Smoking Loon advised that, in Seoul, he has a similar curse and I thought that, as I'd be living in the desert, I'd just feel a bit flushed. Alas not. Mr Smoking Loon, I feel your (extremely damp) pain!

However, it's only been 2 days, I haven't started work yet, but I think I already really kinda like it. Last night we had a whole roasted chicken for dinner. It was delivered to the door. With chips. And a fab salad (with pomegranite). And falafel. And flatbread. And pickles. It cost us buttons. It was delicious.

This evening we went out for dinner and ate outside. Again I was soaked to the skin with sweat but loved being outdoors in the evening without chattering teeth and the need for some kind of knitwear.

This afternoon we went to the Emirates Palace, an vast 1 billion star hotel (£16,000 per night for a suite). There was a Picasso exhibition, we popped in and it was enormous. The amazing things about it (besides the art itself) were that it was completely free and completely empty! There were about 8 other people there. It was like having a private gallery. Brilliant! I was so thrilled and pleased with the whole afternoon that I had to have a sit down in the luxurious surroundings of the hangar-sized lobby and have a pot of date tea - another cheeky surprise. Who knew that tea made from dates could be so good?!

Tomorrow we're off for brunch at an huge revolving restaurant for as much as we can eat, with champagne included. Something tells me that this place is all about eating and drinking. Good news for a lardy, gluttonous porker like me, bad news for my waistline and health regime. Two things may save me.

1. Yesterday we perused the huge variety of beach/health clubs on offer. I've decided on my favourite. TOH has a different favourite so we're going to have to sit down and think hard. Whichever we choose, it means I'm going to have to go to the gym and get a personal trainer to haul me into shape. Terror!
2. I need so many passport-sized photos as everyone requires at least two for everything - work, driving licence, liquor licence, beach club membership... I went to a photo store today (they don't seem to have machines here). The man took a few snaps, asked me how many copies I needed and then set to on photo shop smoothing out my wrinkles, removing dark circles and evening out my skin tone. Even though I say so myself, I look fantastic - I was close to asking him to give me back my hair! The man is a magician! I'm now on a quest to find a surgeon to do what my photographer has done!

I'm full, sleepy and enjoying the glorious feeling of aircon on my skin. I'm off to bed.

Apologies for the lack of pics. I'm using someone else's laptop - my stuff is going to take 7-9 weeks to arrive, including my PC.

Night all.

The cupboards are bare...

...and so is my house.

Everything is packed up. There are boxes everywhere. My fabulous holiday to Ibiza is now a week old memory and my tan is fading the same way, I still have a tan line to peek at now and again to remind me though.

In 3 days we'll be closing our front door in London for the last time and heading to the airport, never to return to this house. I'm not normally a sentimental person but I've found myself doing odd things this last week. Yesterday whilst drinking a glass of water at the sink I stood watching the trees outside and the wind buffeting the leaves about and then how the resulting shadows played around our kitchen. I'm going to miss trees and the varieties of green that I see all of the time here in the UK - it rains a lot so green is definitely a UK colour. There are only palm trees where I'm going and the colours that dominate are sandy brown, sky blue and the retina-sizzling turquoise of the ocean - not a huge palette but a totally different one to what I'm used to, so I'm looking forward to it.

I've had my last Friday night out here in London.

I've said "au revoir" to most of my friends and yesterday, to my parents which was much sadder than I expected it would be.

I've been in my last tube delay (hopefully) and had to recalculate the resulting circuitous route through the London underground network to get home.

I've thrown most of my coats and jumpers away but I've dithered and still remain undecided about my compact umbrella.

I've been massively stressed that I'll forget to do something important.

I'm ready. I want to go. I'd like to go now. I still have to wait 3 more days. I don't like camels which could be a bit of an issue...

Au Revoir Jambon et Fromage... Ola Jamon y Queso!!

Erm... at the risk of further incredulous condemnation... I'm going on holiday this evening.

I can already sense the huge dip in air pressure and oxygen levels as much air is sucked through teeth as regular visitors read this revelation. I guess to many it won't come as a surprise. But you all know I love holidays and travel.

I do have a small defence though. Once I start my new job, I won't be able to take any leave for 6 months - in my terms that's almost a holiday eternity.

Anyhoo... I'm catching a late flight from Gatwick tonight and I'll arrive in Ibiza just in time to throw something light and swishy on and hit a groovy bar. Alternatively, I could put something clingy and inappropriate on and hit a club. Mind you, there have been too many pies and too much beer in the last few weeks to be able to get away with 'clingy' so it'll have to be baggy and shapeless - Europe's uber-cool set will just have to poke it!

Apologies again for my useless, infrequent posting but once my life settles into something more controllable, normal service will resume.

I'll return with a tan, more beer belly and possibly, ears filled with party foam.

Actually, that last bit isn't going to happen.

Jambon et Fromage

OK. It's been a while hasn't it?! Apologies. I've been a busy chap.

Quick summary - I've done tons of stuff but not all of it's worth putting down here.
So...

1. I left my old job 4 weeks ago. My last day was really sad but also amazing. I was hauled to the company auditorium at the end of the day to be welcomed by loads of people I've worked with over the past 11 years. My boss had organised a video of everyone saying a goodbye message. The video included a montage of some of my work moments (many of which are embarrassing) set to music - it made me sob like a teenage girl! I was too choked to do a speech.
2. I've been on holiday to Provence - more of this in a bit
3. I've been planning stuff for my move to Abu Dhabi.
4. I'm packing, co-ordinating, editing my belongings and filling rubbish bags like there's no tomorrow.
5. I'm looking forward to my holiday in Ibiza.

Phew!



Provence was amazing. We stayed in a fantastic house and the neighbours were so friendly and welcoming. It was Bastille Day whilst we were there and the neighbours insisted we (all 7 of us) come over to their place for drinks before taking us to a nearby village restaurant for dinner and street celebrations. I deserved to have a hangover that could have wiped out western Europe but strangely I awoke the next morning, after 5 hours sleep, perky as ya like and ready for a dip in the pool followed by a hillock of croissants for breakfast.

Whilst 'en Provence', I think we drank a quarter of the French rose wine stocks - it's super popular there and everyone drinks it with ice! Bizarre, but it works. They also chill their red wine in the fridge. I can feel the tremors as thousands of wine buffs shudder at the thought but they're French, they don't care and they made it anyway. So there.

I'm beginning to feel slightly anxious about my move now. Not actually living in Abu Dhabi but about the move itself. Getting stuff packed and shipped across the world is a pain in the arse, quite frankly. Will it all get there in one piece? Will I ever see it again? Where the heck am I going to live? That's actually quite an important question, and one which can't be answered until I get there. We're staying in a hotel for the first few weeks until my company finds me an apartment. Hope it's by the beach....

!

Lawks!

It's been an age since I last posted. Huge apologies all. I've been busy leaving work, going on holiday, visiting my parents and beginning to organise my move to Abu Dhabi.

I promise I'll post something real soon!