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Abu Dhabi: You can't |
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Written by Stephen Baines
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Thursday, 09 March 2006 |
There are two things I look forward to when travelling away from home. Two things that make the unpleasantness of being away from home and loved ones a bit more bareable. The reason I mention this is that today both are relevant.
The first one is exploring a little in the evening. I'm not one for slumping in the hotel, hitting the bar, and stumbling into bed and waking in the morning bleary eyed and ready for another day the same as the UK, except in a different time zone. No, I like to go and explore the area, go and see places that perhaps you shouldn't, in ways you shouldn't, or do the things that people tell you "you can't do that" or "you shouldn't do that" - the latter always strikes me as more of a challenge, I mean why shouldn't I do that?
I mention this because today my class ended, and I was asked what I was going to do tonight. I had an idea of what I wanted to do - last night I had gone for a wander with the idea of walking down to the corniche and seeing it now that it's nearly complete, as last time I was here it was all shielded from view for it's major makeover. That plan last night went awry when I took a wrong turn somewhere, and ended up outside the Abu Dhabi ministry buildings, with the erie laser points around my feet, and I realised perhaps I had took a major wrong turning, and quickly hailed a taxi to return to the hotel. On the way back from that escapade I'd seen something that made me wish I had my camera to hand and I missed it and now I felt my visit to Abu Dhabi would be incomplete without it. Today I would get a taxi to the Marina Mall, and walk back from there, and attack the corniche from the other end - that'd improve my chances, with the added bonus that I would see the finished Conference Palace Hotel, and come back via the world'd largest coffee pot and tea pot. Seriously. I saw them last night from the taxi, and now I felt unless I saw them in person without a shield of glass between me and it, my visit to the Emirates would've been wasted. "You can't do that" said one, "No, you shouldn't even attempt to do that". Mission decided...
So the first part was pretty uneventful - I lept in a taxi, and for a grand total of 4 dirhams (about 70p) I was at the Marina Mall. I had a cursory look around, but I had a mission. I just had to make sure I had another view of the worlds tallest flag pole (I haven't heard of Abu Dhabi being shamed into second place, so I assume it still is) and marvel at it's sheer brilliance of pointlessness. When the worlds follies are counted up, this must surely be up amongst them, for there is no reason for anyone to have a flag pole that huge, with a flag that huge, so huge that it has to have aircraft warning lights on it drawing even more attention to it as the light fails. I saw, I marvelled, I watched the jetskiers in the bay and the kites being flown overhead, and enjoyed the warm sunshine and the gentle breeze that made this visit and walk so much more pleasant than previous attempts.
I wandered over the bridge from the Marina Mall to the mainland, and marvelled at the Conference Palace. I honestly couldn't believe how the finished article looked - gleeming and standing there ready, surely, for inclusion in the new wonders of the world. For a city so modern in so many ways, the absolute timelessness of that palace brings a lump to my throat. The thought that I will never stay there is only tempered by the fact I have been round it in the past. As I wandered over the bridge, the sun started to set, and set behind the palace, making it shimmer and whisper, looking for all the world as if a mirage that would disappear as surely as the sun. I watched the birds playing in the immaculate lawns, diving into the jets of water that were keeping them pristine and green. I watched as people wandered the grounds, and wondered just how wealthy they must be to afford the prices of that place - believe me, you won't find a good deal on Lastminute.com for that one.
I arrived on land again, and wandered along the Corniche. I watched the families sitting on the beach, having barbeques and playing in the sea. It was a simple but lovely thing to see, that give kids some sand and some water, and they'll be happy for hours, whereever you are in the world. I wandered further, and watched the sun get ever lower, and flag turn into a sillhouette that was dwarfing everything on the horizon. It even made the palace look minute, which made me wonder how they can let it remain, for surely to dwarf that monument of granite and marble is surely a crime.
'Twas about an hour and a half later that I realised I wasn't really making much impression on the corniche, even if it was on me, and I decided that discression was the better part of valour, and hailed a taxi and demanded to be taken to the tea pot. I stood, I marvelled, and wondered how it must be to wake up in the morning and decide "what this country needs is a giant teapot on the main streets, and a coffee pot for good measure". I'm not convinced I would make a good ruler, as I doubt I'd be capable of such clarity.
I pottered back to the hotel, via the new souk, and listened to the call to prayer, and how the rest of the streets emptied of muslims, but started to fill with the workers of the city who were now on their weekend, and were looking forward to a day of relaxing.
At the hotel I returned to my room, dropped off my bag, and decided to have something to eat. This brings me to number two - food. When away I love to try the local food, and eat in places that aren't on the tourist trail. As a result I am rarely disappointed. The only times I get disappointed and upset are those times I foolishly eat in the international restaurant at the hotel and dare to ask for a Caesar Salad. Caesar Salads in hotels are invariably grim, where the leaves are drowned in thick white gunk that only has a passing resemblance to a fresh Caesar dressing, and the "chef" decides in his brilliance to tamper with a classic and add beetroot chips and a thyme jus or some other vile additive such as "dried italian style cheese substitute". Actually, not every time, once I did have a good Caesar Salad on a hotel. I say on, for it was on The Queen Mary in Long Beach, and as it was a boat rather than a "real" hotel, I think my statement stands.
Anyway back to tonight, I didn't make that mistake, but after a week away I decided I wanted something other than Middle Eastern food. Not because I was sick of it, but I just wanted a change. The hotel has a Chinese Restaurant, and I thought I'd eat there tonight and relax for the evening, ready for the late flight tomorrow. I went to the restaurant and was shown to my table, I chose and a bottle of water was delivered. And that was it. A bottle of water. Time passes slowly in a restaurant, especially when on your own. I know that time is slow anyway, so I tend to take a book with me, and as you look around you see others doing the same, with a plane boarding card in as a makeshift bookmark. But I became aware that I was reading a frightening large proportion of the book, and that I wouldn't have much for the airport tomorrow, and that couldn't be right. I looked up, and it was now a horrific 50 minutes since ordering, and still no sign of my starter, let alone the main course. Then the frightening 120dB strains of "Happy Birthday to You" blared out of the music system for some poor unfortunate on an adjacent table, as they brought them out a cake. I did ponder whether to claim it was my birthday too, and see if that increased the chances of getting something to eat. The waitress finally caught my eye, looked shifty and disappeared. Finally my starter appeared, and a short while later my main course.
Now the food was great - I couldn't fault it at all, but the service left me horrified and rather fed up. The moral of the story? Forget a towel, always take a book and you'll be alright. And always eat local. |
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