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Day 5 (Sat 19 Sep): Arriving in Bangkok

In my head, it’s still yesterday; a day is not over until I’ve slept.

 

Executive summary: I really like Bangkok.

Main report: This is a relief as I’d been a little concerned about personal security and avoiding the sex tourism. I needn’t have worried – it feels relatively safe and I think to partake in the latter you have to be a) looking for it and b) know what you’re looking for. Which I don’t. Perhaps it would be different if I was a man. But I’m not, so brain has moved on.

Getting the metro (85p) was easy and welcoming, but I had to wait ages for the bus to turn up to take me into the heart of the place. I was sat at the side of a slip road on to one side of a dual carriageway. Below are some photos of the vehicles that passed me. All were taken from the same position – can you spot the odd one out?


  
  
It would appear that direction of travel is merely a suggestion rather than a rule!

Glad I waited for the bus. Travelled with the locals into town (about 17p):

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.. and then stopped at a street cafe for some food. Between serving, the waitresses prepared vegetables and fruit for the kitchen that was situated on the street (with the seating at the back).


My vegetable noodle soup was fresh, delicious, piping hot and cheap (89p).

 

The “house rules” of my hotel say more about the place than I ever could:


It might be the rebel in me, but I rather like the idea of being a “room pirate”. And I wondered if non-severe smoking was allowed (tee-hee!).

But the hotel is adequate for my needs and I have to admit that I feel more comfortable (psychologically-speaking!) here. I’m really glad I decided to stay in the backpacker area rather than in the (business-oriented) city centre: it’s alive and easy and fun.

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Decided to plan my 3.5 days here: glad I did. Advice was that the floating market (about 90 mins from Bangkok) was best at the weekend, so I’ve booked a tour for tomorrow. Will visit the temples independently on Mon. Ok, so I only planned two days, but that’s an improvement, right?

 

Thai massage is world-renowned. It’s justified. In just 30 mins she kindly but firmly coaxed the stress out of me. And there were no signs of, er, “extra services” so I think there must be two kinds of establishment.

All the eateries I’ve seen have looked very good – I think you’d genuinely struggle to find a bad meal here. “Pad Thai” is a must-try. It was very good, but eclipsed by the “tom yam soup”. Even better, I am pleased to confirm that it was not dissimilar to my own (but I was taught by the best, CH 😉 ) but with more richness and depth of flavour. I’d like to think this is because of the ingredients, rather than the cook, though…

Every time we eat together, I ask CH to re-teach me to use chopsticks, which she kindly and patiently does only for me to fail miserably. Again. But something must have clicked because I swiftly polished off the Pad Thai with chopsticks. They really are the best tool for the job (except, obviously, soup) as you can easily pick specific bits out of the pile of nosh and the leftover grains of rice – try doing that with a fork!

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Day 4 (Fri 18 Sep): Leaving Dubai

“So, what else is there to do in Abu Dhabi apart from the Grand Mosque and Ferrari World?”

“Nothing… that’s all.”

Cars aren’t my thing and a three-hour round trip to see the Grand Mosque didn’t seem worth it, so I booked a late check out and gave myself the day off*.

I’d been debating whether to travel from Bangkok to Siem Reap (Cambodia) by bus or plane. Flying seemed “not in the spirit of the game” but had three distinct advantages:

  1. It’s a lot quicker
  2. Immigration would be easier (I’d heard reports that the border is a haven for scams, but many said it was easy)
  3. It meant I wouldn’t pass through a higher-risk malaria zone

Whilst I didn’t have the energy for more tourist hassling, it was this last one that really clinched it – antimalarials can have awful side effects during and after treatment, so whilst I was keen to protect myself, I also wanted to minimise the amount I took. As Siem Reap and my potential next destination (Phnom Penh) were low-risk areas, it meant I could delay treatment for some time. Afterwards, I realised that the additional cost of flying was also partly offset by this delay – a daily tablet is £1.39 and treatment is required 2 days before, during and 7 days after exposure. Research also confirmed that there were lots of other opportunities during my planned route to use bus, boat and train.

A quick workout in the hotel gym followed by a leisurely swim was a lovely way to finish my visit – I feel I’ve “done” Dubai.

I’m usually keen to try new things (c.f. this trip!), but the Indian restaurant was so good I returned. It then occurred to me that I might have struck lucky. I needn’t have worried – apart from the rice, I had little idea what I ordered, but it was all superb (especially the “raigan masala” whose main feature was a ball made of what I think was an unusual cross between mashed and crumbed potato).


Then the metro to the airport. The metro itself is worth a mention. In comparison to the Tube where I rarely wait more than 4 mins for a train, usually only 2, it’s not as frequent (but 6-7 mins isn’t a major problem). It also seems to be an after-thought with only two main lines, leaving much of the city unserviced, with stations sometimes quite a distance from the main action. For example, it takes a good 15 mins to walk from “Dubai Mall metro station” to the actual mall. That’s like calling a station “Waterloo” but kicking you out at Covent Garden. But it’s fast, efficient and clean (no eating or drinking is allowed). And bar three stations, it’s all overground so the views are much better 😉

The day after my initial experience (see Day 2), I entered a carriage and quickly realised there were lots of females. An event maybe? Or just the time of day? Moments into my search for a male, I spotted the pink signs on the door – a women/children-only carriage. Ah, that would explain all the men that day – the women were here! On the way home from the concert, the metro was packed and I couldn’t be bothered to leg it down the platform to the pink carriage. I was also curious. Whatever happens, I thought, just chalk it up to experience. As before, the men’s faces gave away that their first thought upon seeing me was “female”, but then looked away. It was only when I was about to disembark that I noticed that, despite the crowds, nobody was physically touching me – like an invisible circle (of respect? Of fear of being accused?) around me. Mind you, it could also have been that I ponged as I hadn’t showered since that morning and it’s hot – you start glistening moments after stepping out of the air conditioning.

Pink taxis, with a female driver, also exist (I’m not sure whether a man can take these; I assume so). I’m in two minds about this: on the one hand, and as another traveller’s taxi driver opined, women could be seen to be “privileged” by these services; on the other hand, it never occurred to me that there would be gender-specific transportation because I’ve never felt the need for it. I’ll leave you to decide…

And so I left Dubai. Glad I went, glad to leave. It was hot, dusty, superficial, artificial, fast, high, efficient, clean, welcoming and safe. Dubai personified is a twelve-year-old boy (trying to impress his mates): old enough to have a sense of self, but not yet mature enough to realise it’s not the destination that’s important, but the journey. I feel like saying to it: “Yes, ok, you can win. Can we just play now, please?”. Like people, all places are unique, defined by their history, culture, environment, nature, experience. It doesn’t yet realise that it doesn’t have to be the best, fastest, highest and biggest, it just needs to be itself. But perhaps that’s exactly what it’s doing.

* Can you have a day off when you’re on holiday? Surely they’re all days off?!  But there’s an invisible pressure to do stuff.  Or perhaps I’m just a diligent tourist.  Either way, it’s giving myself explicit permission to not do anything.

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Day 3 (Thu 17 Sep): Dubai (taxis, Burj Khalifa, Spandeau Ballet)

A nice, relaxing morning in my suite (!) before realising that tomorrow is holy day so my mosque visit may be difficult without sudden religious enlightenment and  a full makeover – nuts! Better go today, then.

“How much to Jumeira Mosque?”

“No problem.”

I repeated the question.

“Yes, don’t worry about it. Get in.”

Tried again. “Don’t worry, I will look after you.”

“How much?”

There was a hesitation and that nodding/shaking of the head Indian people do, which is the equivalent of our “errr… ummm ” (note: I’ve learnt this over years of working with (mostly very good) Indian/Pakistani developers -they’re not saying no, they’re just thinking).

“Fifty dirhams”.

This is twice the going rate. Some things are the same the world over.

I agreed 25 AED with the next driver. It was after we’d pulled away that he mentioned the mosque was closed in the afternoon. Pants – scuppered again. Decided to head to the mall (after declining the driver’s offer to take me to Abu Dhabi instead).

Mosied (is that a proper word?) round the mall. The Aquarium was fascinating (I especially liked the rays, who were lapping up the attention):


Seemed pretty crowded in there, though…

Inadvertently found myself in the high-end fashion atrium (which was virtually empty):


Found signs of better things to come and thought of you, Mum (if it had been open, I’d have holed up there for the afternoon with a bottomless drink gradually eating my way through the menu):


And then headed for the Burj Khalifa…

Finished in 2010 and taking six years to construct, the Burj Khalifa is the tallest (828 metres) man-made structure in the world. The title was previously held by a TV mast in North Dakota, which actually sounds quite dull so a record worth breaking at least. And BK beats it by a considerable margin, too (828m vs 628.8m):


(Note: the two other structures were finished before BK).

As previously mentioned, Dubai loves it’s superlatives, so let’s get them out of the way now:

  • highest observation deck in the world (floor 148)
  • fastest lift (from ground level to floor 124 in 58s = 9 km/h)
  • highest occupied floor

The first 39 floors are the Armani hotel, then lots of apartments and then business lets. Oh, and there’s a restaurant in there somewhere, too. And it’s not a tower, it’s a “vertical city”.

The design is based on a three-pronged desert flower (the shape of its footprint) and a mosque (but I never found out how). Its 24,380 panes of silver-coated glass (that minimise heat retention) take a team 3 months to clean.

So far so good. And then I notice this line:

“Cathodic protection against aggressive chlorides and sulphates ensures a minimum lifespan of 100 years.”

What?! It cost $1.5b and it could fall down in someone’s lifetime (not mine, admittedly). That could be why they’re planning a taller one, apparently… along with a bigger ski slope and mall (I’ve also heard rumours of a covered, air-conditioned beach. Oh my lordy Lord).

Normal tickets take you to floor 124. But I’m not a normal kinda gal, so got a SKY ticket to floor 148. It was definitely worth it, not just for the views but because you could actually see them as there were no crowds (oh, and skipping the long queues both going up and down).

So, here are the money shots:

Cool fact: if you can asend to the top observation deck in 3 minutes (which is possible), you can watch the sunset twice: once at ground level and again at floor 148.

Spent over an hour at the top (no, I’m not sure, either – just sitting and watching the sun go down, I think).

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It was serene (due in large part to the lack of crowds), but I’m not convinced the extra 24 floors made a massive difference to the view itself. I was lucky enough to go up New York’s twin towers and the effect was very similar. And whilst 828m is pretty high, let’s not forget that it’s eclipsed by lots of natural “structures” so I’ve been higher! Definitely one of the highlights of my visit, though.

As I’m typing this on my phone (hotel’s PCs aren’t working), I’ll sum up my opinion of the subsequent Spandeau Ballet as follows: fairly enjoyable, tight, well-rehearsed, catchy tunes (I even recognised two of them)… but not exceptional musicians and songs fairly samey. Mind you, they were following my BK visit, and the last music gig I saw were Punch Brothers so they were up against pretty tough competition.

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Day 2 (Wed 16 Sep): Dubai (city tour, dinner)

Picking up the others from their hotels showed how this place is a “work in progress”. Building is going on everywhere, with spotless buildings right next to dusty, open spaces.


Mahmoud was a much better guide.

Some info (none of it validated)

Dubai’s population is about 9 million.  Of these, only 19% are “natives” (who enjoy free housing, education, healthcare, etc, and are recognised by their long white (men) and black (women) robes), over 2 million are Indian, and the rest represent 200 different nationalities. This could explain why Indian food is “typical” (with only one restaurant serving the traditional food: camel) – there is no cuisine to speak of and food reflects the cultural diversity of the population.

You can get a work visa for 2 years (if you’ve been offered a job), which you can renew. The only foreign females granted citizenship are those who marry a native man.

Burj al-Arab

What makes the Burj al-Arab worth 7-stars (in someone’s book, anyway) is that:

– it consists only of duplex suites: one per floor, with each having their own reception

– guests are collected by Rolls Royce from the airport and dropped at the escalator for their floor.  Yes, each floor has its own escalator because stopping at other people’s is such a pain

– rooms are guilded with gold (surely, there’s a temptation to scratch it off, but praps that’s just me!)

– for those for whom a Rolls Royce is beneath them, they can land their helicopter on the pad on the roof

This is not an exhaustive list, I’m sure. But if you’ve got a spare 1,000 GBP (per night) then I’m sure you can find more information on their website.  I wonder how they feel about not having the “most expensive hotel room” badge?  Apparently, this honour belongs to Atlantis where the presidential suite will set you back a cool 40,000 USD, according to my (somewhat unreliable) boat guide.

Dubai museum

Described as “small but interesting” by Mahmoud, this was the highlight of my trip. It charted the rise and rise of Dubai, which can be summed up as follows:

  • 1920/30s: As an important port, building around the creek started; infrastructure works commence
  • 1940/50s: Continuing building, hampered by cultured pearls (natural pearls were one of Dubai’s natural resources) and WWII
  • 1960s: Bingo – oil is discovered! They start to reap the benefits of the infrastructure programmes and things start to seriously take off
  • 1970s onwards: bigger, higher, better, dearer…

It’s not difficult to remember that Dubai didn’t “exist” until 1972, when seven states (each with a different ruler) were brought together.  In reality, modern Dubai has been around for maybe 70 or 80 years, and the culture of the Bedouin people seems to be unimportant to them in day-to-day life. So it was a pleasant surprise that the museum offered a rich insight into their heritage and culture.  Traditional summer houses (called Al Arish) had ingenious wind towers that channeled the breeze into the house no matter which way it was coming from:

 



Spice market


Took dhows across the Creek to Bur Diera where I was harassed by every single little shop owner.  Not relaxing.  But still not threatening.  In fact, when I returned early to the meeting point and asked my latest harasser, very politely, if he would please leave me alone (please?), he suddenly looked very concerned and offered me a seat. See, I told you they were lovely people 🙂



We also visited Jumeira Mosque (but didn’t go in) and Dubai Mall.  I’ve the Burj Khalifa visit booked for tomorrow, so more on that then.

Chatting to my taxi driver on the way back.  He’s Pakistani.  His family lives in Pakistan and he’s been here for seven years. He sees them once a year, alternating between them visiting Dubai, and him going home.  It’s too expensive for them to all live in Dubai, so he works here and sends money home. A shot of reality in the midst of this “paradise”.

Found it, found it!

Tired of the tourist trail, I headed in the opposite direction from my hotel, on the guidance of my taxi driver. And I found the real Dubai. It’s new, shabby, bustling and alive. As the only westerner I saw all evening, everybody looked… but nobody stared.

Two of the other things that struck me when I arrived were the cars (thousands and thousands of them and all very clean; Mahmoud mentioned the £40 fine for dirty cars, which would explain that!) and the emptiness. Deserted streets, vacant shops. That it takes so long to get anywhere here explains the cars. The heat explains the emptiness. When the sun goes down, the place comes alive. Every bench by the roadside becomes filled with locals, meeting, chatting, smoking. And not just the youngsters but organised “mothers’ meetings”, a father with his young child, old men sharing a smoke.

Crossing the main arterial road, you can feel you’re in a different part of town. I stumbled across a vegetarian Indian restaurant. I’ve always favoured gut instinct over TripAdvisor, and I got a good vibe about this place: vegetarian (I understand most Indians eat veggie), full of locals, busy staff. I went in. I was the only westerner in there. Nobody noticed me. That the service was fast, efficient, almost impatient was a breath of fresh air. I surveyed the menu – no descriptions, just lists and prices – and realised that, bar the odd word, I had no idea what any of it was. Thali, can’t go wrong with a thali. I pointed to the dish, the waiter wrote it down and promptly walked off.

I like curry. A lot. This was one of the best I’ve had.


Three courses. Total bill: £3. Yes, really. I told you I’d found the real Dubai 🙂

And when I’d finished, I walked out. Nobody seemed to notice me arrive. No one noticed me leave. Invisible, in a good way. Suddenly the heat seemed friendlier and whilst it was still illuminated and in-your-face, this part of town felt more real.


And I was back in my hotel room in 30 minutes.

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Day 1 (Tue 15 Sep): Dubai (boat tour, Dubai mall)

A three-night stopover in Dubai.  As it’s not my kind of place, I’d never come here for a holiday, so a three-night stopover was the perfect opportunity to see it… and then move on.

Initial observations about Dubai…  Firstly, everything is shiny and new. Quite a lot of it is not yet finished.  It’s like the playground of someone with a construction habit and ADHD. And a lot of money.

Sister (who used to live here) suggested a boat tour from the marina before I was able to check into my hotel.  I decided to get the metro and the second thing struck me: men.  Of the 200 or so people who I saw during my journey, I counted just 5 females, and 4 of these were western.  Yet at no point have I felt uncomfortable or intimidated. Media portrayal of some Middle Eastern countries is one of huge gender inequality, yet I have seen no evidence of this so far.  When I got off the metro to walk to the marina the third thing struck me: the heat.  OMG, the heat.  Not the warm, friendly, “wet” heat of Florida (I will remember forever the first time I stepped off the minibus and the world gave me what I can only describe as a warm, welcoming hug), but fierce, intense hotness.

Stopped for lunch at a deli, and got a “fruit and veg salad”.  I won’t be posting all my meals (it’s not Facebook, you know 😉 but those that stand out.  It was a delicious combination of fruit and veg that I’ve never seen in the UK: three colours of sweet pepper, coriander, cucumber, raw onion and various types of melon (topped off with a satay chicken stick).

Today was a day of firsts.  It was the first time I’ve been to the Middle East.  This is something I’d like to do again.  It was the first time I’ve been to Dubai.  This is something I could do again, with sufficient motivation.  Today was also the first time that I’ve been on a speed boat.  This is something I could quite happily never do again.  It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it  – on the contrary, it was actually good fun.  But it was a dissatisfying mode of transport – too much, too fast. It didn’t help that the skipper seemed to be on a speed trip, and it was only the knowledge that, being a strong swimmer, I could fend for myself if tipped overboard, that enabled me to relax.  The boat trip was a great way to get a sense of the place, though. For such a new city, I was intrigued as to what we’d see. Answer: hotels. Our “guide” pointed out all the hotels and their owners, but didn’t seem to know a lot about them.  For instance, the amazing thing about Atlantis is that it exists. It’s big and has a water park, but apart from that, I struggled to see why he’d picked this one out of the plethora of hotels on the shoreline. He even insisted he take our pictures:


I also saw the Burj al-Arab (the world’s only 7-star hotel, although our guide couldn’t tell me what I’d get for my extra stars), and various palaces of Dubai’s rich and royal.  And lots of superlatives – Dubai is desperate to have the biggest, tallest, most expensive, of everything. Everyone seems to competing against each other, but this makes for an interesting skyline.


Back on dry land, the hotel looked like a short walk from the metro station.  I remembered MC’s advice: “Find a pace you’re comfortable with and just keep going.”  I would also have done well to heed another piece of his advice: “Walk in the right direction.”

Forty-five minutes later I finally stumbled (literally) up the stairs to the hotel and flopped into the chair in front of the desk. I must have looked a state because the receptionist looked at me and said, “Upgrade.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going to upgrade you.”

Oooh, I thought, that’d be good.  I’d quite like to be able to make myself invisible.

Turns out she meant she’d upgrade the room, which was also good. I was hoping for a bath (I like baths). I got a one-bedroom flat. The place is bigger than my pad back home.  I have a fully-equipped kitchen, a lounge and a dining room.  I’m not kidding.  An upgrade…and I didn’t even have to mention my three pairs of pants 😉

Sister (did I mention she used to live here?) had suggested “any of the Indian places in the Food Court of the Dubai mall”. So in the evening I took the hotel transfer and arrived at the biggest mall in the world.  Dubai mall in one word: bling.  Serious bling.


The Food Court had everything: Chinese, Thai, Italian, fish n’ chips, Lebanese, KFC, Japanese, frozen yoghurt, ice cream, and even a chocolate fountain.  The Indian did me well, and I decided that I might only travel to places that my sister has lived. This may be somewhat limiting, so I may extend it to places that someone I know has lived.

At 9:15pm I asked for directions to the metro station. He pointed and said “Down there, left at Bloomingdale’s and then right at the next junction.”  Based on that description, I thought it’d be about 10 minutes.  Five minutes later, I figured I’d missed Bloomingdale’s.  How can I miss Bloomingdale’s?, I wondered, but anything is possible with my sense of direction.  Fifteen minutes later I reached Bloomingdale’s.  It was another 10 minutes before I actually exited the mall and another 20 minutes before I arrived at the metro station.  This place is big.  Dubai is big.  It takes forever to get anywhere.  I eventually got back to my hotel at 10:45pm.  An hour and a half to travel 9km.

I really wanted to like this place for what it was. But it’s almost a parody of itself, the sibling of a high-achiever that feels they’ve always got something to prove. It tries too hard, desperate to be accepted.  Do I regret stopping over?  Absolutely not. But I think I’m going to be glad to move on.  Yet some people love it – many of the people I’ve met are very proud of their city.  Another example of “horses for courses” – as someone who prefers natural over man-made, stealth over speed, experiences over possessions, the odds of me liking the place were stacked against.  But Dubai has two major things going for it, and both are significant: the people I’ve met have been, without exception, absolutely charming. Not forced, not to get something from me, but in a genuine, friendly way. And I feel safe. Walking home from the metro last night, I felt safe.  And, in my book, that counts for a lot.

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Day 0 (Mon 14 Sep): Leaving London

“So,” I asked Sister (a frequent flyer), “how do I go about asking for an upgrade?”

“Tell them you’re getting married”, said her husband.

“What?  Even though I’m travelling by myself?”

“Yeah, it’s just you don’t know who to yet… because you haven’t met them.  You might meet them on the plane.”

“Say to them,” says Sister, “‘I’ve three pairs of pants.  I’m feeling lucky.  How about an upgrade?”

She then mentioned that, despite being a frequent flyer, she hasn’t actually ever been upgraded.  Funny that! 😉

Travelling light, I didn’t have much to pack, which made leaving the house scarily uneventful. Big Bro waited patiently, and again in the car whilst I tried to remember what I’d forgotten. Arriving at Heathrow, my adventure suddenly felt real for the very first time.  I’ve never been to Asia, so it’s difficult to imagine what’s in store.  But big adventures don’t happen like that, they unfold moment by moment.  So I found the piano and amused myself until departure.