Credit Crunch...What Credit Crunch?

Cityscape hit Dubai this week – a four day property exhibition where the lost audacious property development are announced. If you heard about the NEW tallest building in the world (one kilometer high, folks) then chances are it was because it was announced here.

I had the pleasure of spending most of the week at the event, and I can honestly say I have never seen anything like it.

For a start, the event brought the entire city to a grinding halt. As usual, the roads haven’t been particularly well thought out around the venue, meaning that it took me 90 minutes to get from my office to the vicinity. This is a journey that should take no more than TEN minutes.

After driving around for hours trying to park, I gave up and parked quite some way away in a dusty carpark. Just getting into it was a challenge in itself but I refused to give up (after arguing with a member of staff and nearly crying. I have been told that this approach often works wonders here but I have yet to use it. I’m saving that for the police when I inevitably have a car crash.)

As I dragged myself through the sand and heat, a helicopter landed 20 metres from me, and a member of the Royal Family disembarked. This is such a normal occurrence that I barely flinched or looked over, and just carried on walking.

The show itself is outrageous. Some stands are the size of a new bar or nightclub, most are two storeys high. God knows what they cost to design and build. I tried to think of the most lavish show that I’d ever visited in the UK, but there is truly nothing that compares to it. It was an exhausting week, and left me confused about the property market here, to be honest. Depending on who you talk to, properties were selling, or they weren’t. All I know for sure is that when faces with such opulence and confidence, the global economic crisis seemed very far away….

"You are English, You Have Power."

Everything here takes an age to sort out, a combination of poor service, incompetence, and a general lack of initiative which seems to be endemic throughout the country.

Three months after moving into the apartment, I finally have blinds in the lounge. This was not without incident. The apartment complex has an army of security guards (what do they all do??) they are on the gates, at the doors, and each tower has its own concierge and team of staff. This meant that when my blind man came to install the blinds, he was met with a wall of people who didn’t want to let him in.

As with most trades of this nature, the blind man, and his team, were Indian. Despite me telling the concierge to let him into the lift to the apartment, there was a real hoo-ha with security, who refused to let them in. They kept the men waiting for over an hour in a tiny office in the basement, and it wasn’t until I got a call from a very upset blind man that I even realised that anything was wrong.

I had to go and rescue them from the bowels of the building, which was a very unpleasant experience. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed to be English, and I have been very embarrassed before (see previous posts.) This was the worst.

As soon as I arrived on the scene, things were different. I politely explained the situation (no-one speaks much English so there was a lot of gesturing and smiling on my part) and frog marched the team out of the office, out to their car, round the complex, and into my building. My concierge was most upset by this (as were the security guards) but I felt so bad that I had to get the guys in as quickly as possible.

The entire time they were virtually in tears, apologizing over and over for keeping me waiting (!). Howveer much I told them it was no problem (and it really wasn’t, they were the ones who had been kept prisoner for hours!) they were truly devastated to have kept me waiting.

One of them turned to me in the lift and said: “They don’t listen to us. But you’re English, you have power.” He laughed as he said it, and it was such a matter of fact statement that it made me a little sad. These are people, probably the hardest working that I have seen in my life. But because I’m English, my word is somehow more powerful that theirs. A sobering experience, but sadly, very typical here in Dubai.

Under the Counter?

You can buy just about any UK prescription drug over the counter here. It is truly bizarre. It had made me compelled to go into any chemist that I see here, purely for a nosy!

I bobbed into one the other day, on my never-ending quest for fake tan (this is worthy of a blog post all of its own.) Now, lest you need reminding, this is a Muslim country. Sex before marriage is a definite no-no, and it is illegal to live together if you’re not married.

So imagine my surprise when I rounded a corner to be greeted by shelves and shelves of the contraceptive pill. Yes, you can buy it straight off the shelf, no questions asked. I didn’t think my eyebrows could get any further back into my head, until I saw that you can also buy the morning after pill too. Welcome to Dubai, country of contradictions……

A Joyous Day – Strictly Come Dancing!

You can’t get any decent UK TV here in Dubai (I will expand on this later. I now know most celebrities’ True Hollywood Stories, but there is very little to tickle the old brainbox apart from this)

You can watch tv on the BBC website. BUT the BBC website doesn’t work outside of the UK.

This has led to me having to purchase a complicated piece of equipment (do not ask me to explain, suffice to say it has taken me 4 long months to work it out) which will allow me to get around this and watch it anyway. I finally got it to work yesterday!
You can imagine my excitement as I sat glued to my laptop for four hours watching the main Strictly shows and also ‘It Takes Two’ from BBC 2. What a treat! I howled with laughter for most of it – WHAT IS WRONG WITH GARY RHODES he is a complete idiot!
A good old fashioned family show, great outfits, make-up and fake tan everywhere. I was genuinely in heaven for an hour and a half.

A sobering read

I came across this article on the Guardian's website (god bless online news to save me from the mediocrity here!)

Finally someone has said what everyone who lives here cannot fail to recognise. Whether you’re a visitor to Dubai, or a resident, you can’t help but notice that the city is being built by an army of imported labour. Construction workers are ever present, at the side of every road, every turn you take, either doing small jobs (sweeping the road with a dustpan and brush – surely a never-ending job – we’re in the desert) or grappling with enormous road, bridge or residential projects.
When you spend a bit more time here you notice another army of people, those in the service industry. Whether you’re in a bar, restaurant, hairdressers or shop, chances are you will be served by someone from another country who has come here to earn more than they could at home, and send money back to their family. They sometimes tell you shocking stories of their lives back home, and how they are trying to make a better life for themselves here.

You can look at it as a positive for them – they have a better life and standard of living here, and are managing to support their families. But the fact is, they still earn a pittance here.

It's one of those very uncomfortable truths about living in Dubai. What to do?

A Beetle in the Sea!

No, this does not refer to anything of the actual insect variety, more as to what I looked like when on a recent beach break. We took off to a beach resort called Fujairah, about a 2 hour drive from Dubai, surrounded by mountains. A gorgeous place, our hotel was built in an Arabic style, low level rooms overlooking the sea, and a shade cooler than Dubai – about 34 degrees. Divine.

The one thing which I wasn’t ready for was the sea. In Dubai the sea is a pretty placid affair, very few waves or spray, and just perfect for lounging in and relaxing. The sea in Fujairah is a beast of a thing, huge swell, massive breakers,and a very strong current which pulls your feet out from under you even when you’re just standing on the shoreline.

All of this makes for much fun and excitement if you’re under the age of ten. There was a variety of children having the time of their lives playing in the waves, being thrown around and shrieking with laughter.

When you’re in the your thirties and the effort that you want to expend on the beach is minimal this poses a slight problem. The heat forced me down to the sea on the first day, and to begin with, the sea seemed to be behaving itself. Then before I realized it, it took a turn for the worse.

My feet were swept out from under me, I was sucked into relentless waves for what felt like an eternity but was actually about five minutes. I couldn’t stand up, and every time I tried I just got sucked under again. It was no doubt, hilarious to onlookers (I had spent a pleasant few hours chortling to myself whilst watching other poor souls suffer the same fate) but it didn’t feel that funny from where I was standing. Or should that be lying?

In all the drama I lost my Marbella sunglasses, but thankfully, not my bikini bottoms (it was at one point a very close call though). My dignity was washed away in the first few seconds as I flailed about on my back like a squealing beetle trying to get up.

I am still finding sand in places, which frankly, no sand should ever get to!

The World’s Biggest, Best, tallest, blah blah blah

Dubai is a city of superlatives. Everything is the biggest, best, fastest, first. It’s easy to get quite blasé about any new development or announcement.

A bigger fireworks display than at the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony? You’ve got it.
A waterfront city bigger than Hong Kong. Coming right up.
The world’s most expensive square kilometer of living and commercial space? Of course.

I live and work in this square kilometer, and there’s no doubt that it’s a great place to be. Whether or not we’ll be able to afford the soaring rents in years to come remains to be seen (did I mention we pay 20k a year, and rents for the same sized apartment have already gone up to 25k since we moved in back in May).

I’ve mentioned living and working in very close proximity to the world’s tallest building – it’s still pretty impressive however many times a day you see it (at least 20 for me, most days). Here’s a couple of links which show you just what a beast it is.

It’s due to open properly next year on the 9th September (09-09-09, see what they did there?)

No Wonder We Have Such a Bad Reputation!

It seems to escape the attention of many people in Dubai (mainly English tourists) that we live in a Muslim country. To be fair to visitors – why would you notice. You go from the airport to your hotel, to the malls and tourist attractions, without necessarily encountering many locals.

Now, Dubai is a very liberal place (contrary to what you may think) BUT the one thing that has really been getting my goat recently is the complete lack of respect that tourists have when they come here – in particular, with their choice of dress.

Number One: Clothing, Ladies
Ladies, very few people look good in hot pants and boob tubes. Even Nadine from Girl’s Aloud has been spotted looking less than perfect in this outfit combo.
Layer in the fact that WE ARE IN A MUSLIM COUNTRY and it becomes even more inappropriate to be wearing hot pants with your backside, quite literally falling out, combined with a very low cut boob tube. (I actually saw this very outfit being sported by an English lady in a hotel reception, during Ramadan. Her and her equally chavvy looking partner were, apparently, off to spend the day going ‘going round the souks’. As this is one of the oldest and most conservative parts of Dubai, I can only imagine the reaction that she got when walking around. And she was completely unaware of the inappropriateness of her outfit.)

Number Two: Clothing, Men
Likewise, gents, it may be acceptable to take your top off and stand bare-chested when watching Newcastle United play at St James Park (why do the Geordies do this?!) but it is simply not acceptable to do this when inside a five or six star hotel, and slump onto a sofa, or worse still, walk around with no shoes on either. (I saw this visual treat at the weekend when in a hotel frequented by a lot of local families. They looked horrified and I was truly embarrassed to be English.)

People, please exercise a little modesty and decorum. For the sake of respecting local customs, and also my stomach.

The Fridge is Empty!

Before you panic that I am wasting away (chance would be a fine thing) I mean that the fridge is empty of....booze. Living here means that you can't ust nip down to the local offie or corner shop and buy booze, nor can you stock up during a regular shop at a big supermarket.

To be able to buy any alcohol to consumer in your own home you need a licence. getting one of these is a long process, it involves having a visa, work permit, stamp and letter from your employer saying they don't object to it, oh and was there a tenancy agreement too? Can't remember. Suffice to say it wasn't easy - and then you have to wait five weeks for it!


You can only buy alcohol from certain places - they tend to be 'hidden' (used to be called hole in the walls), you don't need a secret handshake to get in, but they are discreet places, and once in you can purchase every alocholic beverage imaginable.


So, if you find yourself in the upsetting situation where the house is dry, it isn't easy to remedy too quickly. Just as well I live 5 mins from three five star hotels which serve wine, then!

A Feeling of Dread

Regular readers of my blog will know of my last ill-fated trip to the hairdresser here in Dubai. If you didn't know the ins and outs of it, suffice to say, my hair was BIG. One of the weird things about living here is that my hair and nails grow at a ridiculous pace. My nails actually grow a milimetre a week! (And no, I don't spend time studying them, it's just really obvious what with the nail varnish and all)

So, it is with a heavy heart that I have realised that my barnet is way out of control and really needs a cut. I am on the hunt for a decent hairdresser. Updates to follow. If you can hear my sceraming from the other side of the world, you will be able to guess the outcome.....