Maktoumtown

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March 23rd



Arrived late in Abu Dhabi, and after a bit of kerfuffle with Jet Airways who had jammed Kath’s bag, we hopped on a complimentary bus to Dubai. We had asked at the airport information about hotels and it was the same same; all hotels in Abu Dhabi were full, (unless we wanted to pay US$500 for a suite). The man had a pristine gown, Kath asked how he got it so white, he mentioned that he doesn’t use bleach and does it himself. He allowed us to use his phone and do the rounds of most of the lesser expensive hotels. We were told that we should just head straight for Dubai, where there is always a spare bed. We climbed aboard a free shuttle offered by Etihad, which was a sweet Mercedes a/c bus, and both fell asleep. We woke when we were on the outskirts of Dubai. It was such a sight of urbanisation. Each high rise was tastefully lit in its own colour and, even though it was pushing 3 a.m., our spirits were lifted as we darted through the empty streets. We were dropped off in Jumeirah, hopped into a cab, and headed for the Holiday Inn Express as our friendly information guy recommended it as the budget option.



March 24th



Woke and hit breakkie as it was ending and, because we’ve had pretty much no sleep in about a week and travelling like our lives depended upon it, we went back to bed.

In the evening, we rang Trevor, the son of Kath’s dad’s co-workers, and arranged to meet at Berasti. Berasti is a huge bar complex that sat right on the beach overlooking The Palm Jumeirah. It had fantastic views of the city skyscrapers that were ever creeping closer and closer to the waters edge. We met some of Trevor’s friends from Ernst & Young; Ali, Baha and his girlfriend. The bar was filled with many young entrepreneurs from across the globe, which I suppose explained the $10 drinks.

We learnt about this fake city arising from the desert and one funny story about the American University, which has no affiliation to any American university. The car park is filled with Lamborghinis, Ferraris and Bentleys and the students cannot even drive these machines. They sit there in the car park stalling and eventually pulling out with kangaroo petrol. The reason for this is that the culture here emphasises the spoiling of the youths at the expense of the head of the family. Grandfathers everywhere sit in second-hand robes so their teenaged grandsons can learn to drive standard on a brand new Porsche. Strange, eh?



March 25th



Today we wanted to get out and about and see Dubai. We started our day by visiting the Karama Souq, which is famed for its imitation goods. It was not what we were expecting; it was a small mall filled with Indian people all hassling us to look at their merchandise. Most of the storefronts were just that - fronts - as all the real business took place behind the scenes. After some great sales pitches, Kath got some nice sunnies.

We, then, headed into Deira and to the Gold Souq. We saw the most outrageous pieces of jewellery, some being over a kilo of gold and decked to the nines with black diamonds. Although there are no pictures allowed, we snuck some as the displays all belong in museums. How can this business section survive? Every single store, without exception, is selling gold, and mostly in identical patterns at identical prices. Nevertheless, the streets are full of women pulling their husbands along or travelling in packs, perusing each store and stocking up on gold (it helps with the energies, you see).

We wandered past spice and perfume stalls as we headed to the creek. We crossed it in a fantastically battered and dented boat. The views on the creek showed the stark contrasts between the new new, and the new that is supposed to look old. After disembarking, we wandered our merry ways through Bur Dubai Souq. It had a wonderful ornate wooden roof over most of the alleyway. There were so many shops selling everything from rugs to mobile phones. Kath picked up a beautiful little cream dress with little gems on it for a steal.

George sifted through endless piles of fake Lacoste merchandise before deciding with distain that it was all too gash. Nowhere in the world is it more evident that fake designer merchandise funds illegitimate activities around the world.

We ended up at what looked like a fort of some sorts. It was in fact the Dubai Museum. It was incredibly creepy. We went into the main courtyard area, and were greeted by the site of a couple of hundred swallows swooping and diving around us. Inside, strangely life-like dioramas depicted early Bedouins in various activities of everyday life. The whole area was shrouded in darkness. It seemed like any one of them might turn around and demand to know why we were staring.

We returned to the hotel to don our new garbs, and headed to the quaint-sounding “clock tower” to meet Trevor for some Lebanese food. It turns out the clock tower is a massive structure arching over a six lane highway. We wandered around for 45 minutes, constantly getting incorrect directions, and splashing through massive puddles in the rain.

Everyone tells us it doesn’t rain much in Dubai after January, but we don’t believe them. Al Gore is gloating somewhere - because of the usual lack of rain, Dubai doesn’t have much in the way of drainage systems. Water collects and pools on the streets until it evaporates in the morning. Trevor told us he’d once seen a Lamborghini immersed in rainwater, up to the roof, he said.

At the Lebanese restaurant, we were taken into a family room. This was a carpeted area, isolated by draperies, with a few cushions scattered around. We sat crossed-legged while the waiter brought us a plastic tablecloth to protect the carpet. We ate off one massive plate, gnawing at goat, chicken and flavoursome rice. The food was worth the extra effort it took to find the place!



March 26th



We checked out of the hotel at noon and made our way to Madinat Jumeirah. It was like another Hollywood film set. The iconic building, Burj Al Arab, gave the scene a stunning backdrop. It has replaced the CN Tower as the world’s tallest freestanding structure, dwarfing Dubai’s other gigantic high-rises. The hotel’s attitude is as lofty as its great height - to enter, you must pay a minimum of 200Dhs each, so we admired it from afar. Our surroundings were charmed. The complex, which is yet another resort, was designed to look old and traditional. Winding through the area are crystal-clear canals, through which boats carry hotel guests from one end to the other.

Apart from the resort, restaurants and sheesha bars, the hallways were lined with another fantastic touristy souqs filled with overpriced tat, beautiful nonetheless.

Back to the Holiday Inn at six to pick up our bags and then we were kindly picked up by Trevor and then we went to his flat. His flat is beautifully situated right on the marina. We were greeted with all the lights from the opposite buildings and their flickering reflections off the water.

We ordered in a Thai and then had a drinking game of cheat, which we had to cut short because it seemed as though the game would never end. We hopped into a cab and went to a bar right under the construction of the future tallest hotel/shopping mall/apartment building where we met with Baha, Ali, and quite a few of their friends. They were in celebration because one guy had just been given his marching orders.

The financial crisis is notably serious here. The city is emptying rapidly and real estate prices are plummeting. All of Dubai’s audacious projects are on hold and it is rumoured that the Maktoum family are running out of pennies. We asked about the underground that, according to the guidebook, should be finished this year. We learnt that it was supposed to open on 7/7/07, then it was 8/8/08, the book says 9/9/09 but now it’s anyone’s guess. Parts of the new Palm Deira have been cancelled, as have pieces of The World along with many other smaller projects. It seems such a shame but people here thought that they would simply get richer indefinitely and if you ask, people will not even admit that there is a crisis; that’s their way of dealing with it.

We had such a ball talking and meeting with new people from all around the globe. A round of ten Jaeger-bombs was the pinnacle, costing about three arms and four legs. After the bar shut at 2, Trevor, Andrew, Devon, Kath and I dropped off the terrace (instead of walking all the way round), crossed the road and resided in a sheesha bar where we promptly ordered three sheeshas and some hummus. We talked the night away and eventually got back to Trevor’s flat around five-ish.

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Photos

Taking pictures!
...not allowed.

Emerite's Palace
Yes, that's all gold gilt.