Aussie in Al Ain

the long trek home

2009-08-14T14:47:00.010+04:00

Thursday 29th July
The only thing that went right today was that we managed to get up in time to get our 7:30 taxi to Fumicioini airport. It was all downhill after that.
The taxi dropped us off wrong terminal and after finding our way to the right terminal and a long wait, Air France, with whom we booked told us that we’d been queued up in the wrong place because though we’d booked with them, it was actually Alitalia who was going to be flying us to Paris for a connection through to Dubai. This wasn’t mentioned on any of our documentation. So after another substantial period of queuing and with the clock fast running down we finally got ourselves checked-in and through customs with moments to spare.
We raced to the gate, jumped onto the bus and breathed a sigh of relief. Soon we were on the plane, bags stowed, books and glasses organised ... all ready for the two hour flight to Charles de Gaulle. Time passed with nerry a word from staff nor movement from the plane. Word came that we had to disembark because of a safety issue. So after being herded back on buses and back to the airport, and standing around for 45 minutes not sure what was going on, we were lead back to the gate we had originally left from where we again waited. It soon became apparent that we were going to miss our connecting flight to Dubai.
Back on another plane that rattled and creaked like no plane we’d ever been on before, babies screaming and a teenager with lots of ‘tude sitting next to me, we finally got into Charles de Gaulle airport several hours late. After queuing for almost an hour we met a very pleasant man who kindly organised another flight for us ... leaving just before midnight; 11 hours after we were supposed to leave. As compensation Air France gave us a voucher for a free sandwich and drink! Were they kidding? After expressing disappointment at their offer and after a bit of argy-bargy I wangled access to the Air France lounge where we felt somewhat better after an OJ, a Bombay and tonic and a snack. Spending ten hours there was a bit over the top, but ... you get that. However, our revised expectations to be home by midday the next day were soon thwarted when once again we were sitting on the runway for 30 mins, 40 mins ... wondering what was going on. It became clear when a medical team boarded the plane that one of the passengers had suddenly taken ill. After an hour and a half the gentleman was taken off the plane to get the required medical care and the plane was soon in the air without further mishap.
This is the guilty plane sitting at Rome airport just before we boarded the first time.

Tuesday 27th July - Naples
Life-threatening, but cool.
Oppressive 40 degree heat, the taxi windows are wound down, we’re stopped in dense, noisy traffic and there’s no a/c. The driver decides this is a good time to light up a cigarette making it even harder to breathe in the thick, still air. His phone rings. He takes the call. The traffic moves, he accelerates still smoking and still talking on his hand-held phone. As the traffic speeds up, he changes gears without missing a beat in his phone conversation. He begins weaving in and out of the traffic, picking the gaps to the millimetre while still distracted by gears, the cigarette and his phone. The bright side is that with the taxi now moving, there is some air flow and thus some relief from the cloying heat. And ... who said men can’t multi task?
We had a pizza and some Pinot Grigio in an upstairs labyrinth on the main shopping strip in Napoli. It was magic!

Scene taken from the big square

When enough is enough

Much of what we saw in Napoli looked like this

And this

Though there are some lovely monuments and buildings, there's a sad and ugly side

Monday 27th July

Naples today and the penultimate day of our trip. The ship has become a home; a refuge from the world outside. Would I cruise again? Yes. Would I do it for 20 days? Probably not. The lustre begins to wear off around 12 – 14 days. Yesterday saw us in Sicily’s capital, Palermo. We did the sightseeing bus thing – pity they didn’t have much enroute in the way of sights that were worth seeing.

Reclining bunny

Another speccy sunset (with another crooked horizon!)

Dinner on the ship - last day. This was called a vegetable stack - though I'm not sure why.

Gardens of our hotel in Rome on the last night

different strokes

2009-07-25T20:45:00.008+04:00

Saturday 25th July - Tunisia

We had the shore excursion from hell today. La Goulette in Tunisia. The temperature was 40 degrees; the sun was out and the heat was oppressive. We were on the bus off the bus on the bus off the bus on the bus off the bus to look at the piddling ruins of Carthage. The first couple of stops had little of interest and certainly didn’t warrant standing under the hot July sun and clambering on and off buses. The third site held more interest, but again would have been better in January where a traveller’s thoughts are on something other than finding the next bit of shade with some standing room. From the underwhelming and oppressively hot ruins we headed off to a cemetery with the graves of 4000 American soldiers ... okay ... I can’t even begin to get interested in that! Then we were on the bus for about 20 mins before hopping off and being lead en masse 1km uphill in the beating sun. We landed in the middle of an open air street bazaar with crowds, a narrow shopping strip with goods spilling out, hawkers, pickpockets and two shops selling cold drinks with crowds jostling for a bit of precious shade while they waited to actually get in to buy a drink. Our guide turned around to us and said, ‘This is Sidi Bou Said. You have free time. I’ll meet you in an hour and we’ll walk back to the bus together.’ We’d been dumped in a hell hole!
Just over four and a half hours after we’d set off we arrived back at the ship where some of our fellow travellers bumped into some of their shipmates. I overheard snippets of their conversation and was stunned to hear them report on the fabulous day we’d had visiting Carthage and Sidi Bou Said. Were they really on the same trip as me?
The most interesting part of the day was learning that ‘Carthage’ means ‘New City’ ... which it was back in 800 BC. It predated Rome by about 80 years. Another interesting snippet, which I plan to verify once I can use the net more freely again is that the roots of some our script today can be traced to the Phoenicians who inhabited Carthage. If you turn a capital ‘A’ upside down, you have the head of a bull with its two horns. Turn a ‘B’ on its side and you have a drawing of two houses and if you look at the ‘M’ you are looking at two waves indicating the sea or ‘mer.’
View from restaurant in Sidi Bou Said, Tunisia.

Carthage, Tunisia

It looks like a mosque, but it has a street number. Can mosques have street numbers? It's a very pretty building.

Streetscape, La Goulette, Tunisia

Building worker with no safety harness - there are so many of them around seemingly risking their lives daily.

Friday 24th July - At sea
At sea day today and time to catch up on some reading and some pondering. What is the point of blogging? Do we blog for ourselves or for our audience? Is it a problem having inept writers like yours truly putting virtual pen to virtual paper to spew forth random thoughts? Does this enhance the writer’s life? Does it enhance anyone else’s? Does it create a sense of community in some way? Does it mitigate or diminish good writing in any way? Does it leave a record which, in the future will have the writer cringing at what they were prepared to publish? Why do we do it? Should we do it?
It’s sooo frustrating not having easy access to the net to be able to google a couple of my questions above to see what others have said on this topic. What did sci-fi writers like Bradbury have to say about it? Does Theroux have any comments? What of philosophers? What do the baa-humbuggers have to say on the topic?
At $25 per hour, my use of the net has been quite limited during the cruise – email and MSN to keep in touch with the kids and friends, a few bank transactions (eek! Have I spent that much??!) and a quick look at the Aus newspapers and that’s it. The net speed is quite slow too, which is a deterrent to googling.

Thursday 23rd July - Majorca, Spain
The whirlwind tour continued today in Majorca. It’s so hard when visiting so many beautiful cities and towns to appreciate the uniqueness of each. Majorca paled next to some of our other stops. We learnt about the devastating decline in the farming industry after European Union and the change of emphasis to tourism. Those farmers who weren’t completely driven out of business by the EU agreements, have turned their hand to growing almonds, an industry which only survives at the largess of the government and then only because the almond blossoms in spring are a drawcard for tourists.
Fresh in our minds was the idea of Majorca as a safe haven for Australian fugitive multi-millionaire, Christopher Skase. We were on the lookout for his mansion which we had seen so many times in Aussie newspapers.
We had a look at a boutique winery today which was interesting partly because it uses the work of local artists to annually design new labels. The walls, hung with a variety of the originals works, made it a winery cum gallery.

Wine tasting in Majorca

A farmer from Renmark, Australia - in his 80's and still going strong. Nice bloke!

Wine label artwork.

Majorca countryside.

Kennels that the best dressed dogs are using these days.

Manor house of a bygone era.

Majorca from the ship.

Wednesday 22nd July - Barcelona
In Barcelona our plan was to ride the hop on hop off bus to get our bearings and stop by a few places of interest. That didn’t happen. Everyone in Barcelona was waiting for the hop on hop off bus. We stood in a queue for a bit under the beating sun, but the length only diminished by between 0 and 10 people each time a bus came by as the buses were chockablock. We gave up and wandered around the port area instead finding somewhere for tapas and a calming glass of pinot grigio. Feeling somewhat better after that, we ambled up the Ramblas and then grabbed a taxi to show us the sights. The driver, a Pakistani man with good English, took us up Montjuic Hill and filled us in on the history of a lot of the sites. The 1992 Olympic stadium was interesting for its nod to classic style.

View from Montjuic.

I couldn't stop thinking about Red Dwarf when I saw this.

the full monte

2009-07-24T14:56:00.015+04:00

Monday 20th
Monaco today. We were here exactly a year ago. Last time we viewed Monte Carlo from above whereas this time we’re in the port looking up. After a leisurely breakfast, we’re about to venture out. We did the Martini at the casino thing last time (well, you have to do that, don’t you?) so we might skip it this time. I’d like to buy some new clothes, just a few shirts and some jeans, but I suspect that Monaco is not the place to do this! Ah well. Day after tomorrow we’ll be in Barcelona. Maybe a bit of clothes shopping will be on the cards there (I hate clothes shopping! Just bring me out clothes that I’m going to like and that will fit and let’s be done with it!). Well we’re off to once more enjoy the views of Monaco.

We decided to do a tour all over Monte Carlo and Monaco. That of course is not hard to do as Monaco is the second smallest country in the world, after the Vatican, with an area of just 1 sq kilometre. It has a population of around 40,000, no unemployment, the highest standard of living in the world and has the highest population density on the planet. The harbours are beautiful and can be seen from almost any vantage point in the city.

I’m losing track of the days. Tomorrow, I believe, is Wednesday and it will find us in Barcelona.

Note to self. Tilt camera down to right in future to correct crooked horizon!

Somewhere not too far up those mountains Monaco ends and France begins.

There must be a high demand for defibrillators.

Damn that bus and damn my lack of software prowess for cutting

Oops. There's that crooked horizontal again

Casino seen from the ship

Deceased butterfly on the balcony railing outside our stateroom

Sunday 19th
Today saw us in Livorno Italy. We wandered around ... and finally found ... somewhere to dine. Being Sunday most of the place was closed. We just wanted a Pinot Grigio and pizza ... we found it in an al fresco Ristorante and dined with pigeons.

Saturday 18th
Return to Rome. We stayed on the floating hotel.
I hate being involved in disputes and yet that is where I so often find myself. The common factor in the disputes is me ... so that leads me to think that the problems are of my doing ... but ... but .. no!
I had a complaint on-ship and the manager I raised the issue with handled it extremely poorly, leaving me, and probably her also, feeling pretty awful. So I escalated my complaint which now was both the original complaint and another about the manager’s handling of the situation. The escalation of the complaint left me feeling a lot better in that now at least my original complaint was being listened to and acted upon. I got what I felt I had been entitled to and the wording of relevant documents on terms and conditions has now been changed to reflect my original suggestions. I’m feeling a lot better about the whole thing, but I wonder how much of my current feeling is the knowledge that I’ve been vindicated ... and how much is simply that the dispute handling mechanism the second time around was much better.

Friday 17th July
Messina, Sicily today. The big highlight was the clock tower which puts on a 15 minute performance at midday. The lion raws (did I really spell 'roars' like that?), the rooster flaps and crows, people and angels move around; all to the tune of Ave Maria. The most remarkable thing about it is that someone designed it and someone invested in it and it got made ... and hundreds of tourists just like us turn up every day to go ‘wow!.’ I mean ... really ... why?

We lunched today with a couple from Nevada who we’ve spent a bit of time with on the cruise. Ks comment later was “And I thought that we were the Gurus of Grump.” We met the couple on the first or second day of the cruise and Mr Nevada has steadily become more disenchanted. K and I had commented to each other this morning that most of the coffee on board is that ‘weak American stuff.' Mr Nevada’s rant at lunch today was about the Espresso rubbish they serve in all these Italian ports. Apparently they need to learn to make good American coffee in Italy. Poor guy, he ordered a ‘filtered coffee’ and told us how much he was looking forward to it. I had my doubts that the waiter understood. K and I got the espresso and cappuccino we’d ordered, Mrs Nevada got her Coke Light, but Mr Nevada got a bowl of coffee flavoured ice-cream instead of his Americano! Sigh! The world is conspiring against him.

Clock tower with rooster that crows and lion that roars at midday.

Obligatory well dressed horse - cart ride.

Back to the ship

Thursday 16th
Today finds us at sea between Greece and Italy. Yesterday we visited Athens. I’m sad to report that I didn’t like it at all. It seemed to have all the worst aspects of some inner suburban areas to the west of Melbourne. Walls everywhere were bedecked with graffiti. We were twice ripped off by taxi drivers. We weren’t ready for the sleight of hand trick where the 25 euro we handed the driver suddenly became 15 euro. It was only an hour later that we realised that must have given him the 25 we thought we had – he had a neat magic trick that turned the 20 into a 10. The second driver tried the same stunt with a 50, but we were awake up to it the second time and stood our ground! That kind of thing leaves a bitter taste. Despite my gammy foot, we took the walk up to the Parthenon with 15 million other people on a hot July day. It wasn’t worth it, though I didn’t mind donating the 12 euro entrance fee that I assume is going to restoration works. We were both glad to be back on our floating hotel.

The Acropolis

At sea between Greece and Italy

Attarturk greets the dawn in Ephesus, Turkey

Ephesus from the Lido Deck

Monkey greets us when we get back to the ship

Diet coke makes a good icepack

santorini

2009-07-16T20:40:00.004+04:00

Monday 13th July
We visited Fira Town on the island of Santorini (Saint Irene), Greece today. Our ten story floating hotel was anchored in the Caldera of a volcano which last erupted in 1956. The tender to shore was rocky and mercifully short delivering us quickly to the few shops at the dock. The town, which is perched 300 metres up on the edge of the volcano, can only be reached by donkey or cable car. We lunched in the sky with a view over the caldera and the town as Greek music played and a gentle breeze wafted past. Then Johnny Cash started singing ‘Walk the Line’ and a huge wind started up only to disappear at the same time Johnny did.
People all around busied themselves with shopping, chatting, sipping coffee or Greek beer and eating Greek delights. The locals were all relaxed smiles and hospitality; they had all the time in the world to spend with us.
Santorini is the classic Greek island you see on all the pics – whitewashed houses with blue framed doors and windows. The church domes are blue too. It’s nothing short of gorgeous.

Santorini from the Lido deck of the ship.

The dock and town on high.

Donkey and his dad. This is one way to get to the town. The only other way is vernicular (cable car).

Here's a donkey that made it up.

Looking down from Fira Town. You can see our ship in the distance.

Details.

We got back to the ship to find a turtle waiting for us.

just like a chocolate milkshake only crunchy (it beats as it sweeps as it cleans)

2009-07-11T16:48:00.006+04:00

A cruise is not just about toe-dipping tourism. Sure you flit through ports looking around for a few hours, maybe pick up a few souvenirs directed specifically at tourists, learn a little and then move on. However, as I’ve learned on this holiday, there is so much more. It’s a health resort if you want it to be. There is 24 hour food service which is free (well, paid for in the ticket price) so if you want to you can chow down all day on hamburgers and high calorie, low nutrition delights, but it’s also easy to find salads, soups and seafood and eat healthily and modestly. There are all manner of health and beauty services on board. I dragged my bad back and gammy foot off to the resident acupuncturist / Chinese herbalist. The treatment was both beneficial and educational and I’ve been lounging lazily in the hydrotherapy pool and then wandering off to the heat treatment chairs to lounge some more. All this lounging is done while watching sparkling aqua ocean and gorgeous Adriatic islands pass by.
So it’s not the same as doing the Paul Theroux and travelling through Asia and India by train while chatting to and learning from ordinary and colourful local folk. In fact it is probably at the opposite pole, any cultural knowledge gained is extremely shallow, but cruising has an awful lot to recommend it. Just expect a totally different experience to other forms of travelling.

Bet Theroux didn't get towels magically whipped into a different animal each night. Towel Art. You gotta love it!

Endless beautiful views at sea.

The ship
She's my favourite

it's just like Venice without the water

2009-07-11T16:47:00.006+04:00

That seemed like a pretty wild claim to me. Venice is all about the water so how would old town Dubrovnik be just like Venice? K claimed he’d accept that claim if it had narrow streets, piazzas, gelati and Venetian style masks. Well, the old town has narrow streets, piazzas, gelati and even masks not unlike Venetian masks. There are no cars or motorcycles just like Venice, but then there are no Vaporettos and no canals. So while not being a totally bizarre claim, there are essential ingredients missing.
It’s incomprehensible that just twenty years ago this town was being bombed in the Serb-Croatian crisis. It’s a lovely town set on hills rising out of the Adriatic. We dined on a terrace overlooking the diamond water. A pair of pigeons preened next to us as we ate.
The old town is like many in Europe. It has massive 25 metre high walls surrounding it and it is well preserved. It only functions because of the tourist trade. Small shops house paintings and crafts by local artists, others sell the usual run of souvenirs – it seems that every city in Europe claims Pinocchio as their own! Some of the buildings house international clothing companies like United Colours of Benneton. Every thing is aimed at extracting euros/krunas from tourists who flit into town, take photos, eat, buy a few souvenirs and move on.
In the fleeting visit what I learnt was that this part of Croatia is breathtakingly beautiful. it survives on the tourist trade and that the locals, like many throughout Europe, are multi lingual.

Lots of greenery and ocean views in Dubrovnik.

I rather liked this sculpture in the main square. It was both amusing and beautiful.

Hills. Venice doesn't have hills, but it does have lots of steps!

paris

2009-07-01T12:45:00.006+04:00

bad photo, great jazz bar

French Rosee

Paris finds us sans fun art in a grand old hotel. We've stumbled on a wonderful place that oozes 19th century opulence, has jazz in the layback bar, great Rosee, good coffee and knowledgeable, helpful staff. What more could one want?

Pics to follow. There seems to be some kind of limiting device stopping pic uploads at present!!

refuge from the thronging crowds

2009-06-28T09:32:00.003+04:00

Brugge lives up to its reputation of being jam-packed with people on the weekend. You'd have needed a shoe horn to fit anyone else in yesterday. While wrestling our way onward we spotted a Kempinski Hotel down a narrow cobblestone laneway. A minute later we were in spacious air-conditioned luxury.

The building is a 15th century residence which has been refurbished beautifully. Fun art is a theme. The bar has a sculpture of a giant set of paintbrushes as well as several paintings of musicians which combine paint and brass. The most amusing though is the giant red poodle in the manicured gardens.

planes, trains and automobiles

2009-06-26T00:47:00.007+04:00

We had a day of varied transport. An uneventful automobile trip to the airport was followed by a cattle-class flight across Europe to Paris. The plane took off late so we were at the airport for over 4 hours. On the bright side the Air-France crew got us safely to our first destination. We arrived rather later though and had to hot tail it out of there to make our connecting train. What was reputed to be a 100 metre stroll turned out to be a one kilometre fast paced limp. We leapt on the train as it was pulling out and made it to Brussels. After a quick brekky we headed for the train to Brugge. I think that they pinched a train from India and plonked it in Belgium for the day. People were standing cheek to jowl, hundreds were hanging out windows and others and their cows were strapped to the top of the vehicle as the train laboured and grunted under the weight of cows, baggage and people. Okay, maybe it wasn't quite that bad, but it was close.

Brugge was a thriving and important seaport until the 16th century. Interestingly many of the buildings were rebuilt to original specifications in the 18th century. They made it all a bit more gothic than it had been to start with so now it's ubergothic.

This was outside the Gruuthuse museum. Apparently 'gruut' or 'gruit' was a herb that was used in beer. Mr Gruut had a monopoly on it and made a killing. When gruit was replaced by hops, Gruut was given the right to tax the brewers and managed to make even more money. How the rich do prosper!

This is the view from the top of the brewery.

Belgium is reputed to be have the best beer in the world, or so the Belgians say. Aussies would dispute that. Anyhow, in respect of our hosts I had to have a beer. Normally I get the glass to my face and back out. The yeasty fragrance is too much for me. But, being a good tourist, I gave it a go. It wasn't completely disgusting.

Brugge is quite lovely with its cobblestone streets, lovely old buildings and canals. It's a bit reminiscent of both Amsterdam and Venice, but at the same time it is quite different.

This pic is simply a case of playing with focus. I like it so I thought I'd chuck it in.

mussels and chips are fine by me

2009-06-22T17:51:00.006+04:00

There are many enjoyable aspects of a holiday; the sights, the colours, the sounds, the smells and the strangeness of the places you visit amongst them. I think though that one of the best elements is the opportunity to reinvent yourself. No-one knows you. You don't know them. It's a relatively clean slate. I don't need to be the shy introvert. I can be the confident extrovert. I can be lazy, energetic, dull, excitable ... anything I like.

Hmmm. On the other hand, I'm going to be taking my gammy foot with me. And ... can you go to Belgium and enjoy mussels, chips and beer if you don't like beer? Can you start liking beer? Do you want to start liking beer?

Well that's obviously a question of earth-shattering importance that I'm going to have to answer in the next few days.

Picture nicked from http://punchin.net/blog2/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/steak-frites-mussels.jpg

hospitals yet again

2009-06-22T17:39:00.002+04:00

I'm walking through the a shopping centre without a care. All is well with the world. Suddenly with the next footfall I'm writhing in pain. Each footstep is incredibly difficult. I limp across the shopping centre, along a passage, out a door, across a carpark and into the car. As I do I realise that the pain is in the exact parts of my foot that hurt two years ago when I fell and sprained my ankle. It took me months to recover from that injury ... and here it is again out of the blue.

I limp off to see an orthopedic surgeon as last time it was suggested that I may have broken a bone in my foot. He quickly tells me that despite the pain and despite the swelling, there's absolutely nothing wrong with my foot. What I am feeling is referred pain from a problem with the lower back. As strange as it sounds, I come to terms with that.

A few days later I manage to get an appointment to see a brilliant osteopath in Dubai. Upon hearing my story he doubts the accuracy of the diagnosis. The upshot is that he is sure that the pain I am feeling in my foot is a result of injuries to ligaments and tendons. My back is fine. I look down to see that he is wearing a hard plastic boot; the same one he wore when I visited him two months earlier. He fell off his motorbike and fractured several bones when the bike landed on top of him. I figure he knows about foot pain!

So here I am about to set off on a walking tour of Europe with a gammy foot. Or is it a gammy back? I'm going with the foot.

you've gotta love banks

2009-06-14T18:07:00.003+04:00

Well you know it's a funny thing. A year ago I was blogging and grumping about banks here in Al Ain. We were about to do a grand tour of Europe and had applied for an HSBC card. All was going well. The card was approved and we'd received it, but when I decided to test it, it didn't work - declined. That was a great start! I rang the bank. Yes, I'd activated it. Yes, I'd done X, Y and Z. It turns out the bank had cancelled the card for some, still mysterious, reason. It took us several days to figure out that this had happened. After making umpteen phone calls, in desperation, we ended up going to see the bank manager, who was a very nice young-ish Emirati man. With his assistance we finally got the account reinstated and received a replacement card the night before we took off for Europe. This was a great relief to us on the eve of our holiday.

Well, as it happens we are about to head off on holidays again and true to form HSBC have decided that now would be a good time to mess us around again. Our credit card, which had a 35,000 dh limit has just dropped to a 600 dh limit. 600 dh? They have to be joking. It turns out that they reduced our credit limit because we haven't been using the card. Apparently one has to use 1000 dh per month to maintain the limit. Not that we were ever told that, it must be in the extra-fine print. Of course it's not possible for the bank to adjust the limit up again, but if we keep the card at the 600 dh max for six months, they'll review the situation and may adjust our credit upwards. That's so helpful. I am completely underwhelmed!

Cards are now cancelled and we're not in a hurry to have dealings with HSBC again!

new camera

2009-05-26T20:24:00.008+04:00

Jumping for joy. New camera ... finally. I've only wanted one for a hundred years. I've been using dicky little point and shoot numbers forever. I figured out my budget, did my research and came up with the perfect camera for my needs. All was well.

Well, that it is, until I got it home. It's so damn fandangled! The last time I had a decent camera it was well before the D appeared in DSLR. It used to be a matter of light, aperature, speed. But this new number has so many buttons, knobs and dials that I don't know where to start. I'm terrified of it.

I've taken it out for a few runs and it keeps producing unexpected results. This camera is the boss of me. I can see myself spending the next year or so attempting to subjugate it.

The first pics are of the apartment. I thought I'd show the folks back home, who are never gonna come and visit us, what the place looks like. The aim of this first one is to make the balcony look bigger as it's really just a tiny elongated postage stamp. And because the folks are not likely to visit, they'll never know the deception I've perpetrated.

View from the postage stamp.
And the loungeroom. The aim here was to give an impression of what the room looks like. That didn't work! I'm sure it doesn't look this messy in real life, does it?

As you can see, it might be a year or more before I can both manage all the bits and bobs on the camera and take a pleasing shot. At any rate I do expect, in 365 days, to be able to award myself a Master of Cameraology. Oh and the camera ... a Canon 450D ... and I'm so far out of my depth it's silly! Imagine being able to step up and manage the Canon 5D MkII. Crikey! How do you do that?

Oh, and we're off to Rome. What are the chances of coming out of the trip camera intact?

2009-05-22T17:29:00.004+04:00

I was heading to Al Jimi Mall the other day when I noticed the left lane of the road was blocked off by witches' hats. (I'm not sure if that's Aussie English or international English - witches' hats - you know those orange cones indicating road works or a road hazard). An official yellow, diamond sign helpfully informed me 'lift lane closed.' That was good. I like road signs like that, they get the imagination going, but my all time favourite road signs in Al Ain are the arrow markings on the road.

This used to be my favourite bit of road in Al Ain.

Until I saw this. Sorry? Which way do you want me to turn? Seriously?

long time coming

2009-05-22T09:56:00.005+04:00

Decisions have been made. Plans are afoot. This baby (pic) is going to take us on a 20 day Mediterranean cruise. Our cabin comes with a balcony so the plan is to lie back with feet up, book in hand and a coffee or fermented grape substance in easy reach.

Before and after the cruise we're staying in each of Brussels, Bruges, Paris and Rome for a few days.

Sorting out itineraries, accommodation and transport is not a great deal of fun and has the potential to spoil a good holiday. But on the other hand, I guess that it's so wearying that one is ready for good holiday after that!

Another month of teaching, marking and adminning. Then we're off.

New York Paris Rome?

2009-04-16T18:10:00.003+04:00

Part of the cost of living in the Emirates is the summer holiday expenses. Staying here in the heat with half the city closed down is just not an option. So where to?

In our holiday planning in the last few weeks, we've taken virtual trips everywhere. We spent a few weeks in South Africa and a week in Zanzibar. We did a road trip of the US and a trip back home to Australia. We did a week in Amsterdam, a week in Rome and a three week cruise of the Mediterranean. But ... we're no closer to making a decision. In fact, after all these virutal trips and decisions we're pretty much sick of the whole thing.

So where to?

some nights one just can't get any traction on the pillow

2009-04-13T02:57:00.001+04:00

Three in the morning. Any sensible person would be all tucked up in bed by now.

emeg

2009-03-21T13:36:00.004+04:00

Last week we took a trip out to the Emirates Marine Environment Group. What a fabulous trip. I've never seen the girls so relaxed and happy. They had a ball and so did we. There was lots to learn and see. Wonderful place.

Unfortunately I forgot to recharge my camera battery before I left. I'd hoped to at least be able to get a few shots off before it died. I guess that I should be grateful for the one solitary shot I did get. It hardly does the place justice but here it is.

desert days

2009-03-20T15:45:00.009+04:00

Two of us ventured out into the depths of the desert the other day with a group of local girls. Okay, it wasn't the depths of the desert, it was just a ten minute trip from Al Ain, but who knew that they were hiding a lake out there. With Jebel Hafeet as the backdrop, it was very pretty.

I loved the colours; the orange of the sand, the blue of the sky and the lake, the green of the bushes and the reeds and the contrast with the black abayas and shailas.

Check the sky.

Three girls go strolling.

Shot!

Jebel Hafeet makes a lovely backdrop.

hospitals

2009-02-21T08:18:00.001+04:00

^%$*&%$$ !$@%!

London

2009-02-15T21:17:00.009+04:00

Long time passing.

Pics of London. I love the red telephone boxes. I remember them from when I was a kid in Aus, but that was a hundred years ago. They've all packed up and gone now.

I'm a sucker for a romantic comedy, so I had to visit Notting Hill; love Portobello road with its old buildings, ramshackle array of goods spilling out of shops and brightly coloured doors and walls - pink, green, red, orange, blue, purple. And as an extra bonus George Orwell lived there. No sign of Hugh though. How trendy does a street need to be?

And of course there was lots of weather!

cold hot cold hot

2009-01-23T11:27:00.003+04:00

Grey skies, rain, hail, momentary glimpses of sunshine (if you look up at the right time!). Of course I'm in London. Love the red double decker buses and the red telephone boxes. They are so iconically London.

Food and drink are criminally expensive. Just a modest snack sets you back an arm and a leg, and most of the fare is very ordinary so one resents having to pay for it. We've had a few nice meals, but they seem to be the exceptions.

Checked out a Kevin Spacey play at the Old Vic; 'Complicit.' Theatre in the round. Minimal set, very talky. The play dealt with the moral issue of journalist non-disclosure. The script didn't get to the nub of the problem and was somewhat shallow. We were disappointed and thus can't presently bring ourselves to book another play - we should though before we leave.

The Tube is fantastic - easy to navigate and trains arrive the instant you set foot on the platform - I think a footfall triggers the trains' appearance. The pace of the city is frenetic. People rush by at a great rate of knots. They've obviously got places to be and things to do!

Galleries and museums being free is fantastic. I gained a new respect for Gainsborough. I'd always thought of him as 'the landscape guy.' Seeing his work up close, I loved it. The detail and brush strokes are stunning.

Today's plan is to take in The Globe, Millenium Bridge and St.Paul's amongst other landmarks.

The weather is icy, especially when the wind picks up, but is quite bearable when wearing lots of layers. The problem is that the indoors are heated/over-heated to the point of being stifling and one doesn't want to strip down to one's undies for fear of offending others! Or maybe I'm just too prudish and should just do it and be comfortable. ('Maybe not' I hear you say.)

quietly adding another year to the tally today

2008-12-27T07:29:00.006+04:00

Happy festive season to all my readers (I think that's just me and the stray cat that's walking along the balcony railing and peering over my shoulder). Let's trust that 2009 will bring lots of great things, though of course it is hard to determine just what that is. For me it includes a rocketing British pound and US dollar and a plummeting Aussie dollar.

We've had the usual round of expat do-s, all of which have been enjoyable and all of which involved copious amounts of bubbly. Last night it was a murder dinner and I thought for a moment that 'I done it,' but turned out to be that floozy across the table from me.

One problem that I always have during Christmas - New Year is that my birthday falls smack bang in the middle of that period and brings with it more festivities. I feel that a reprieve from festivities is needed. Maybe if I just say a quiet, "Happy Birthday me," no-one will notice and the day will pass otherwise unremarked.

Well, it's 7:45 am and my son, T, just texted to say that he and his girlfriend, C, have arrived in Doobs. They're staying for a couple of days at a swish hotel right near the Burj. K actually checked The Age newspaper this morning at 1 am to make sure that no planes had fallen out of the sky between Australia and here! It seems that one never stops being a parent and never stops worrying about the offspring!

Looking forward to seeing T & C for a few days before they continue their journey on to Egypt to check out the pyramids and take a Nile cruise.

PS - pic above knicked from net.

how to win friends and influence people

2008-12-22T00:36:00.006+04:00

Ennui sets in.

Psychologically limping through to the next hols. Dispute with neighbour over cats. What next?

Actually I feel bad about the cat thing. The neighbour took an instant dislike to me 18 months ago when we first met. I made a flippant remark way back then which I heard through the grapevine was absolutely misinterpreted and held up as evidence of my skinflint ways. Ah well, what can you do?

Said neighbour is one of a small group feeding the stray cats in the neighbourhood. The cats are mangey, thin and some are injured. One has only one eye and one seems to have some kind of conjunctivitis as it can't open it's eyes very much. I understand the pity for the animals, but it seems to me that feeding them only encourages breeding and has the effect of inviting cats from further afield to move into our neighbourhood.

The neighbour has taken to feeding the cats right at the entrance to the apartments. This has encouraged the cats to hang around the door. Instead of the usual one or two cats we had to ensure didn't find their way into the stair wells and common areas, we now have to shoo several cats away. The car park and entrance area sometimes smell strongly of cat pee. The newspapers delivered to our door have even been peed upon.

I don't know what the answer to the cat problem is - letting them starve is hardly humane. A neighbour who has moved out used to have them neutered. That's a better solution, but I really don't know who footed the bill.

I've never been a fan of cats. I don't wish ill for the strays, but nor do I want them, their food or their pee stench at my door. Seeing said neighbour feeding them today, I felt obliged to say something. Needless to say it didn't do anything for our relations! I'm not sure that it did anything to encourage the feeding of the cats in another location either. I guess time will tell.

When you see them like this, they look pretty innocuous, don't they?

of lumbago, subdural haematomas and pain

2008-11-22T09:07:00.006+04:00

I've been somewhere on the 'sick ... well' scale during the last several weeks. I'm mostly at the 'well' end now, but have to head in to the hospital for another minor operation in January. It's nothing life-threatening! There were two botched attempts in October/November and I'm going back for more! Some people just never learn!

On each of the previous efforts they gave me an anaesthetic and the doctor assured me that I'd be partially awake, but wouldn't remember anything. Well, I remember everything including the pain and the exact conversations the doctor and nurses were having. I remember the doctor shaking his head and saying 'I've never seen anything like it. Really. Never. Nothing like it!' I remember the nurse saying 'Doctor. The oxygen. She's not getting enough oxygen.' I remember them saying, 'Breathe. Breathe deep. Breathe deep. Keep breathing. Deep. Open your eyes Madam M. Open your eyes. Look at me. Can you look at me? Breathe deep. Keep breathing.' While all this was going on I was thinking, why? What's all the fuss? I'm fine. I just feel like a nap. Leave me alone.

For the second op they told K they knew exactly where they had to snip out some bits and it would just take 20 minutes so he might as well just wait outside rather than go home. I can remember lying on the table watching the clock. 20 mins. 25 mins. 40 mins. An hour and 10 mins. Two hours and 20. Three hours. I remember thinking, poor K. What's he thinking? He must be really worried. He's probably wondering if my life insurance is paid up ... calculating the monetary value of my continued life v my demise. When it got to 3 hours and 30 mins the doctor decided to give up saying it wasn't fair on me or on him. The pain was awful and I'd been begging him for the last hour and a half to give me more anaesthetic or to stop. When he finally gave up I thought 'About bloody time!'

Since then I've been on meds and the challenge has been to get the dosage right. Too much or too little and side effects are just awful. Things were going quite well until today. I'm wondering if today's symptoms are related to the meds or something altogether different! Do you know the senstation of just wanting time to roll on so that you get past an unpleasant episode in your life? That's kind've how I feel. Let's just fast forward a few months please.

Another random thought ... you know how some old people live for their illnesses? It's all they ever talk about ... well ... hmmm. I think I need a new topic of conversation.