Wednesday, February 25th, 2004: Woke up around 8AM and showered…Mark was off to meet w/the Chancellor over the faculty housing crisis and I went downstairs to read the paper until he returned. Read an interesting editorial berating Bush and Kerry because of an opinion that both were born with a silver spoon in their mouth and couldn’t relate to the ‘common man’. I found this interesting, not because I disagreed, but because sheikhs rule here, an effective monarchy!
We hit the road about 11AM and struck out for Abu Dhabi. Got a little lost, but eventually arrived around 1:30PM and had lunch at a fantastically traditional Moroccan restaurant. I had kebab kosh, lamb in a spicy tomato sauce (yummy!) --- Mark & Samia each ordered a local fish they enjoy, Sultan Ibraham. Best part was that they brought out copious amounts of gratuitous veggies, etc. --- hummus, pitas, olives (green & black, both delicious), pickled radishes, mint and various lettuce. I’m growing very fond of mint leaves smeared with hummus as an appetizer.
The restaurant was supposed to sit right on the corniche, but the latter is undergoing some massive reconstruction & they have reclaimed about 250 feet of additional land from the Gulf, so the eatery no longer sits on the water.
Abu Dhabi is a true city…much bigger than I anticipated. I’m guessing population is at least 500-600,000, but obviously we only drove through a portion and I could be way off. Wealth seems to be the natural state here too, but it is different from Dubai…. no outlandish “more money than brains” tourist attractions. I was struck by the numerous, majestic mosques --- Dubai had the same frequency (Mark informs me you score afterlife points for building a mosque), but Dubai’s were much smaller and nowhere near as ornate. We passed a mosque under construction that was absolutely gargantuan – the funny story here was that completion was held up because they were down-sizing the project because it would have bigger than the one in Mecca (the enormous place of worship would be known as Sheik Zayed Grand Mosque when it opened in December, 2007).
Sheik Zayed Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi
With the corniche under construction, there really wasn’t much to see, so we left. Except we didn’t have a map and got lost. Yeah, it’s an island….but a really BIG island. Samia rolled down her window and hurled some Urdu at a taxi cab driver, but his Arabic suggestion did little to aid our cause. We eventually muddled out and were on our way.
We made some dramatic u-turns during this escapade and this is a good spot to comment upon driving in UAE. I’ve already offered some insight into how crazy it is (Mark claims it’s worse than Rome), but it is rather intriguing and I’ll elaborate a bit. The main point to realize is that the police don’t pull anyone over. As Mark expresses, “either you’re driving okay or you have an accident…in which case you are a reckless driver”. Samia believes that the police (most are ex-pats, though it seems they are encouraging nationals to sign up now) feel that pulling someone over is beneath them, because “that’s what the speed monitors are for”.
I will say that they don’t simply ignore moving violations. On the highways you see these rather distinctive metal boxes (somewhat like a silver mailbox), which photograph your car if you are exceeding the 120 kmh limit. You are clueless that you’ve been nabbed until it’s time to register your vehicle again. At this time you are presented with all the fines you incurred since last time (seems like this is every two years or so)…and no registration until you settle up!
In addition, every car is equipped with this sound system that blares whenever you are traveling faster than 120 kmh (I classify it as “slightly more annoying than the seat belt buzzers” here in the States). Per Mark, a lot of folks get them disconnected (an expensive operation), but most endure. It was funny how we would be cruising the desert highway and would trip the buzzer…and just ignore it. After awhile you do relegate it to background noise.
Anyway, our road continued along the coast, but it had changed to serious desert now, although there is green road frontage the entire way (all irrigated, at least a hundred miles!). We stopped for gas outside of Abu Dhabi and I decided to hit the lavatory and leave my lunch behind. I was greatly humbled when I entered one of the turrets (the gas station had four turrets to lend a knightly air to its design???) labeled as the men’s room. The single room inside the turret only had a hole in the middle of the floor! I thought ‘no problem’ --- I’ve crouched in the woods on many a camping trip --- and searched for toilet paper. There wasn’t any à just a hose and then I noticed how wet the floor was. Slowly I backed out….
My first encounter with a squat toilet wasn’t disastrous as we hit another gas station 50 km later to ask directions, and this one was equipped with the western variety of sanitary conveniences (phew!). This one also had a mini-variety store like here in the States (though curiously, no postcards but many children’s toys like dolls, etc.). I asked the guy behind the counter if they sold combs and he replied “you look good…you don’t need a comb. Everyone knows how windy it is in the desert.”
Beware the men’s room!
I was touched by this open, humorous remark, as I was readily identifiable as a ‘westerner’ and believed I would encounter some degree of a cold reception outside of Dubai (this in spite of my friendly experiences in Oman, another very traditional Muslim culture). I should also comment that I saw several unaccompanied females in downtown Abu Dhabi today (two were Arabic in western dress)…where the stereotypes would dictate this was taboo or a recipe for disaster.
Beautiful dunes in the Empty Quarter
Our desert ramble continued, and heading inland now the dunes began to grow bigger. After perhaps a hundred miles the roadside plantings disappeared…though its mind-blowing to consider the irrigation system ran that far! While we only passed through two towns, they were fare sized (i.e., between 10,000 and 40,000). Not a lot of signs along the road (still in English way out here though!), and suddenly we were at Liwa Oasis, our destination. Mark & Samia have never been here…the trip was inspired by my desire to see the area Wilfred Thesiger chronicled in “Arabian Sands”.
It was about 6PM, and much like the Golden Tulip, I was impressed by the modern facilities. We had a very humorous incident at check-in. A porter loaded our bags from Mark’s 4WD, but the elevator was so tiny that he couldn’t squeeze his cart on and stated he’d meet us at our room. When the elevator door closed Samia burst into hysterics --- apparently she teases Mark about how they never off-load the garbage in their vehicle, and among the bags the porter had plucked (and neatly hung with a hangar) was a bag of trash! What I really adored was when she exclaimed “Oh Marco” --- it is very sweet when she calls him this.
After we gained our rooms (and threw away the trash), Samia wanted to rest while Mark and I ventured out in hopes of scoring sunset over the sand. Mark was anxious to head for one of the many utility roads we had espied from our hotel, perched atop an enormous dune --- both of our rooms had expansive porches with majestic views of the endless succession of dunes that is the Empty Quarter. I was skeptical, but we exited the main road in Dhafeer and within five minutes were on one of those very same pathways. We followed a truck that stopped and dropped off two men, who began walking. It was incredible to realize that there were homes built back here, albeit it was an oasis and the cinderblock structures only existed where there was some plant life. Also rather sad to see how the locals consider the vast expanse a great garbage dump, since we witnessed many trash heaps as we progressed down the unpaved road.
Mark & I continued down the road to where it passed a sizable ‘farm’ (or oasis???). The road ended abruptly at this point. We parked and scrambled up the dunes to try and reclaim the sun…..already beneath the huge pile of sand immediately in front of us.
The sand is beautiful. It has a vibrant reddish hue with tiger stripes of a deeper red tint atop the multitude of mini-crests that are everywhere. The topography is incredible – every time you scramble up over a dune, a bizarre new tableau of wind swept peaks and valleys is presented. I scrambled up one dune and got quite a shock, because just past the crest was a dizzying descent. And even got a further scare as I gingerly placed one foot over the top & sank it into the leeward side. The sand melted away under my foot, completely loose and quite unlike the hard pack on the windward side. This action created a delightful mini-avalanche that lasted perhaps twenty seconds, sand cascading down with tiny ridges appearing and quickly disintegrating before my eyes like sand waves.
We took some pictures of the forsaken landscape and backtracked to the hotel.
Returned to the Liwa Hotel and after a brief respite headed for dinner. It was a buffet, which Samia is entirely fed up with (no pun intended). She successfully swayed the head waiter to bring out a simple bowl of lentil soup and a cheese sandwich. The bummer is that she requested a grilled cheese, but no comprehension was evident. We racked our brains trying to derive an appropriate instruction…and Mark substituted “toasted” --- which brought recognition and a smile. Of course when delivered, it was a cheese sandwich neither grilled nor toasted!
After dinner we pinned down the location of Al Misyal bar, where “Dance Band” performed live five nights a week. The band consisted of a dark-complexioned man, very sinister looking, on synthesizer, accompanied by two women who sang/dance. The dude occasionally sang too, and I will not soon forget his rendition of Roy Orbison’s “Oh Pretty Woman”! It was funny and sad because the accents were so terribly misplaced it sounded as if he had memorized the lyrics and didn’t understand English.
There was an Arab and an Anglo couple in attendance besides our trio…but the couple soon left, as did Samia. When it was just Mark and I we discussed the group’s nationality. Mark thought everyone in the group was Russian, but I have such meager exposure to other nationalities that I was unable to offer any opinion of my own. How this trio wound up in the middle of nowhere performing this gig must be a fascinating story.
I am undecided whether Liwa is an oasis for entertainment…
We left the bar about 11PM & retreated to my room for the “Empty Quarter Spite & Malice Desert Classic”, which Mark won two games to one. A fantastic evening. In spite of all the amazing things I’m witnessing, the meat of this trip is the time Mark & I play cards and simply talk --- although I know this will be the reality, there’s always this nag in the back of my mind that asks “what if you don’t have anything to talk about?” Perish the thought! I am honored to add the Empty Quarter to the venues where we have enjoyed this pastime.
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