11th
May 2010
It had
looked as if a combination of volcanic ash and BA cabin crew strikes might
spoil our trip but here we are at the departure gate in Terminal 5 waiting for
our flight to Dubai. In case you are the only person in the world that hasn't
heard, it is our 25th anniversary today so this is a short trip to celebrate,
without kids of course. If you are new to this blog, my apologies for what
follows, if not you know the drill. For real enthusiasts, past adventures
are at http://www.maple3.co.uk/Blogs/default.htm
Cameron
has just been made PM and Brown is saying his goodbyes in Downing St. Very sad.
Not.
Today is
obviously a special day. 25 years since our wedding day which coincided with
the Bradford fire disaster and you won't see video footage of either. Not of
the fire because the scenes were so horrific and not of our wedding because....
it was before video cameras were invented. Just joking kids - yes they were
around and we also had electricity at home too. The fact is we were just a bit
shy back then which is an odd thought nowadays with video to
record even the most trivial of occasions. But the memories are still
there thank God. This is another one of those milestones at which you
start to realise that you are getting on a bit. I was 22 and Caroline was
not quite 20, so younger than Jason and Holly are now. Wow. It was a different
age. We both entered married life with naiveté but somehow we worked it out
between us as we went along. If this is all sounding a bit mushy then my
apologies as I am trying to muster some inspiration for romantic gestures
toward Mrs K.
Unfortunately
the day didn't start well when I forgot to wish her happy anniversary this
morning before dashing out of the house. There was also no card with a loving
message and no present. Mrs K on the other hand has gone to no end of trouble.
On Sunday the family was specially gathered together for an afternoon tea at Oakley Court near Windsor followed by a river boat
trip. (I have now forgiven her for organising it at the same time as the
Premiership showdown - 8 goals and ManU
disappointment helps). I was also presented with a very nice Mont Blanc
fountain pen and then just before we boarded our flight this evening a card
with a long message inside. Before you jump to the conclusion that Mrs K is too
good for me (which she definitely is), I would point out that there is a grand
plan here. It could be called 'payback'. Mrs K is after a special bonus for her
25 years of dedicated service. At the Terminal I invested in a Sony netbook for her but I fear that won't quite cut it.
Not sparkly enough. Now many people have been having a go a BA crew but we have
a favourite BA employee who very kindly arranged for us move forward on the
plane to some more comfortable seats. Thanks Penny. We also enjoyed a glass of
champagne courtesy of BA. You don't get that on RyanAir.
Our
anniversary is mentioned in our booking so Caroline gets lot s of comments like
"you must have been a child". No one says anything like that to
me obviously.
Unfortunately
I can't be as glowing in praise for baggage handler who
failed to put my bag on the plane. As we wait at Dubai airport to see which bag
it was that didn't make the trip with us there is a tense atmosphere but then a
huge sigh of relief when Mrs K realises that her 17 pairs of shoes made it
safely. It is a bit like a striker scoring against his former club - the
celebration is muted on the outside but privately she is punching the
air. To be honest I am quite pleased too. The thought of Mrs K
going 24 hours without her wardrobe is too horrible to contemplate. The
biggest downside for me is the loss of my blackberry charger.
So we
make our way to the hotel and are greeted by name outside as we get out of the
car. Good first impression. We are offered some coffee which we
politely accept but after tasting it I make a mental note to decline next
time. It is still early so we are shown to the waiting lounge where we
make full use of the large reclining armchairs to kick back and catch up on a
couple of missed hours on the flight over.
==========================================================================================
Part 2
Wednesday 12th May (pm)
To pass some
time while we were waiting for our room and Mrs K having got quite a few Z's in
the waiting lounge, we decided to go for a wander around the Souk. It is a maze
of shops, restaurants and a theatre which are interspersed with waterways. It
forms part of the huge complex that our hotel (and another hotel) is part of.
It’s on a Disneyworld type of scale. I took the opportunity to buy a t-shirt
and a pair of shorts to keep me going - wandering around in 35 degrees in jeans
is not much fun. Hopefully the case will arrive late tonight.
After a
while however we got a bit lost so decided to simply hail a water taxi to take
us back to the hotel. It was now 2pm but our room was still not available. Mrs
K was not pleased and let it be known so. So we were taken up to the special
reception area on the 5th floor for complimentary drinks and a very enjoyable
cream tea.
Half way
through scone no. 2 we get the call - our room is ready. In the lobby we are told
that we will check-in at our villa and our private butler will take care of our
every need. That's good as Mrs K has lots of those. Our very friendly and ever
smiling butler speaks reasonable English and is called .....Eric.
Needless to say he doesn't look like an Eric but hey this is a made up world so
he can call himself what he likes.
That
afternoon we take advantage of the pool. This is the smallish one nearby which
is shared by the surrounding rooms rather than the huge one between the hotel
and the beach. Even this one has its own lifeguard and towel man, looking after
us and 4 other guests. I feel sorry for the lifeguard who sits for an hour or
so staring at perfectly still water and decide to go for a dip. Later that
evening when we head off to the restaurant the poor guy is still sitting there.
When I
told the kids about our trip to Dubai, Jason said something along the lines of ”what is this obsceneness?”. He was probably not
far off the mark. The service here is as good as we have ever experienced but
the prices are to match. This comes into sharp focus when we pay £15 for two
coffees in the afternoon and my small can of Heineken by the pool sets me back
£8.
We set
off for dinner that evening. Eric has gone off duty now but ‘Victor’ is there
to handle Mrs K's every need. ‘Please come and fix the sink.’ ‘How can I get
the TV remote to work?’ ‘Can you phone the airport to see if our suitcase is on
its way?’ ‘Where can we eat this evening?’ ‘Can you order a water
taxi for us?’ Victor is probably wondering when Eric comes back on duty.
By night
the Souk de Madinat comes to life and we can't get a
table outside at our chosen restaurant. The Meat Co is what it says it is. I go
for a rack of ribs which is the biggest I have ever seen, let alone attempted
to eat.
We
return via the hotel where we speak to the hotel concierge (her name is Judy)
about our plans for the next couple of days. Mrs K quickly discounts any ideas
of 'dune bashing' (4x4 adventure ride) and camel rides but is much more
interested in talking about the Gold Souk.
At 4am
the missing suitcase arrives.
=================================================================================================================
Part
3
Thursday
13th May
How can
I carry on with this without sounding like I’m gloating? Impossible, so
live with it!
Thursday
was a day of indulgence at a new level. Mrs K is happy as she has her
sparkly so all is well with the world.
I will
skip over the buffet breakfast and morning by the pool – you can imagine both
were highly enjoyable. In the afternoon we had booked to go for afternoon
tea at the Burj al Arab. We are just a stone’s
throw away so we travel by buggy. Our driver is Johnny. As we head
down the footpath (strange name as no one walks here) alongside the beach,
Johnny spots me trying to get a photo of the impressive building. (It’s
the one shaped like a sail with a helipad at the top). He pulls over and
takes our camera so he can get a shot of us in front of the hotel.
Normally one would expect a quick snap which later turns out to be not that
good but Johnny, like everything else here, provides that little bit
extra. He comes to life shouting instructions to us as to where and how
to stand, holding hands, together, apart. Mrs K thinks she is on a shoot.
At the Burj we have to go through a checkpoint where we are ticked
off a list and we make our way up to the Skyview bar
on the 27th floor. If you look at the hotel it is the
horizontal cylinder shaped thing near the top. We take our table next to
the window where we have a fantastic view of the Palm and can just about make
out the islands of ‘The World’ in the hazy mist. Mrs K is a bit dizzy but
we are not sure if it is the glass of champagne or just vertigo. We enjoy
a 9 course afternoon tea which is a traditional English version including
sandwiches, cakes and cream tea (again) as well as various other nibbles.
A piano plays gently in the background. Fortunately we skipped lunch so
we manage to make our way through the whole lot, save for a lonely raspberry at
the end, just to show a modicum of restraint. We notice our feat is not
matched by any other table – at least we got our money’s worth. It is
easily the most expensive afternoon tea ever but probably worth it. Amazing.
The next
part of the plan for the day is to go to the Gold & Diamond Souk. It
is a mall with about 90 jewellery shops – every woman’s dream and every man’s
nightmare. The whole process is designed to wear the man down – there is
no gadget shop to escape to, just wall to wall jewellery. Mrs K is
looking for a tennis bracelet (no idea why they are called that). After
the first three shops I notice a worrying trend. Mrs K is asking to look
at bigger and bigger bracelets and the trend is not linear, it is
exponential! In one shop we have to have a quiet word about what the
budget might be and we have an emotional moment which does the trick – the
shopkeeper slashes his price another 20%. After shop no. 30 I am starting
to lose the will to live but luckily we manage to find the right bracelet and
after long winded negotiations (Mrs K couldn’t produce tears) we managed to
strike a deal. Happy days.
Back at
the Souk de Madinat (in our hotel complex) things
even out when Mrs K buys me some cashew nuts coated in honey.
==========================================================================================================
Part
4
Friday
14th May – Saturday 15th May
If you
would like to see some pictures and haven’t already seen them on Facebook see
www.photos.maple3.co.uk
Will hopefully get some night pictures on there
later this evening.
This
morning I had an emotional moment. Come to that later.
Friday
we returned to just normal levels of decadence. I had heard that the markets
had wobbled due to concern that Dubai was about to default on its debts. But
the rumours were scotched just after we left the Gold & Diamond Souk. Figures. Our hotel is fully occupied but there are tell tale
signs of overcapacity in residential property here in the downtown area.
Having said that if you have a 4/5 bed property on the Palm you won’t be asking
for less than a million – so not that distressed just yet.
We
booked into the Spa for massages. We were told that the policy was man on man
and woman on woman. Disappointing. So we chose to go
for a couples session which meant that we were both in
the same room. I was a bit concerned about my man so was happy for the company.
The hour passed very quickly and I drifted off during the scalp massage. Mrs K
pointed out an advert to me in the Dubai guide "Golden House Gents Spa
Club. Offers full body and foot spa massages and a whole lot more satisfying
services". I thought this was supposed to be a sexually repressed part of
the world?
From
there we retired to the pool. I spotted Gabriel Agbonlohar
(Aston Villa striker). Mrs K said his girlfriend wasn't all that. I probably
disagreed but kept my opinion to myself.
We then
sampled the water park which is adjacent to our hotel complex. We had
complimentary entrance otherwise we probably wouldn't have bothered, especially
as Mrs K would never contemplate going anywhere near any kind of thrill ride.
This was yet another attempt to mimmick a Disney water
park which fell a bit short. The main differences seemed to be that a lot
of the patrons were fully clothed and the changing rooms had a prayer room next
door. Even after prayer Mrs K was not to be persuaded. After queueing up for two rides with hairy Arabs and some very
red westerners I have had enough and we head back for the tranquility
of the hotel beach and watch the sunset.
That
evening we dine at a restaurant on the pier. If you are thinking Southend or Brighton then you are in the wrong ballpark, in
fact the wrong sport. Our table is outside with the blue waves lapping
underneath us. I have a quick look through the wine list and decide not to go
for the Chateau La Tour at £10,000 a bottle. It’s a lovely setting and a great
evening admiring the view along the coastline.
So far
this trip I have managed to convince Mrs K that she doesn't need to go the gym
but on Saturday morning I lose the battle so we set off in search of the health
club where Mrs K is hoping to squeeze into the spinning class. I opt to just
use the gym and find myself running next to Emile Heskey.
I have to increase the speed a bit so not to lose face and eventually he gives
up and leaves. Owned.
That's
when I have my emotional moment, watching a re-run of the scenes after
Chelsea's win over Wigan to seal the Premiership. It’s the end of 3 years of
hurt says JT. Quite right.
It is
still early. Where's that buffet breakfast?
Later we
watch the FA Cup final in a bar in the Souk. The place is surprisingly
quiet but we are soon joined by a small group of rowdy lads. Luckily we
have pride of place right in front of the TV but unfortunately we are not
allowed sound and have to watch the game with a live musician belting out her
stuff from somewhere else in the club. It’s bizarre. A nail-biting
game but we get the result we deserve. We see our friend Steve in the
crowd. Are you watching Man United?
When we
get back to the room we see on the news that volcanic ash is descending on UK
airspace. What a shame.
=======================================================================================
Part
5
Sunday
16th May
I have to work hard again
to convince Mrs K that a trip to the gym is unnecessary but we decide to make
full use of our last day and are at breakfast by 8.15am so that we can get on with
the important business of the day - lounging by the pool.
Around lunchtime we take a
taxi to visit the Burj al Kalifa
which is the 828m tall skyscraper. It’s the tallest in the world by some
distance and took 6 years to build. On the way I realise that I left my camera
in the hotel room. We have a debate between us as to whose fault it is but then
realise that it probably won't matter too much. There is a hazy mist over Dubai
and we won’t see much from the top. The lift goes up 120 floors in 1 minute but
you can't see outside on the way up and apart from your ears popping it could
be any sort of lift ride. After about 15 minutes at the top, we head back down
and fortunately Mrs K is not interested in walking round the Dubai mall - the
biggest in the world. My turn to punch the air. We head back to the pool and try to collect
more rays through the misty haze.
Mrs K is the voucher queen
and she finds a BOGOF for afternoon tea in the hotel. I am not really hungry but we go anyway. It’s the 4th time we have scones,
jam and cream in 8 days and we realise that the last time we had so many cream
teas was 25 years ago in Cornwall – on our honeymoon. Ahh!
Then it is back to the
room on yet another buggy ride. Mrs K
discovers a thrill ride that she can cope with – sitting on the
backwards-facing back seat of a ‘stretch’ buggy.
For our last evening we
have booked to go to Frankie’s at the Dubai Marina. Judy, the concierge, has recommended it and
she calls it ‘world famous’. We go with
her recommendation but are slightly concerned that it could be ‘Frankie &
Benny’s’. However we arrive to find it
is jointly owned by Frankie Dettori and Marco Pierre
White and it appears to be the most lively place in
town. Mrs K even decides to have a glass
of rose to get the evening off on a roll.
But halfway through my main course I realise that I left the camera in
the taxi. This is the rather expensive
one I got for Xmas. As you can imagine
it puts a dampener on the evening and this time there is no discussion - it really
is my fault. Several telephone calls to
the hotel in an effort to find out which cab it was are fruitless. The hostess at the restaurant does her best
to help but I have that sinking feeling.
We get back to the hotel where our friend Judy is doing her best to
locate the taxi driver for us but it is not looking good. I am now feeling a mixture of stupidity,
frustration and anger – some Arab is now running round Dubai taking pictures
with my camera.
We head back to the room
but the task of packing for our early morning departure is not enough of a
distraction. Even England’s victory in
the 20-20 cricket doesn’t cheer me up.
But just after midnight we
get the call. The driver went off duty
after dropping us off and was at home asleep when he was contacted by the cab
company. He kindly drives it back to its
massively relieved owner and all aspersions against Arabs are hastily
withdrawn.
In the last few months, I
have left my blackberry at the gym, a laptop on a plane and now left my camera
behind twice in one day. I have to face
it – I have started to go senile.
You can see some of the
more recent pictures I took last night with the famous camera at
www.photos.maple3.co.uk
Looks like the ash cloud will
stay away from London and so we should just make it back before BA Cabin crew
start their strike.
That’s our trip – hope you
enjoyed the blog.
See you soon
Jeff