Lifelines

People get lost often on Dubai roads. Not much wonder!

The most common driver comment is, "Oops, I took the wrong exit."


Even the taxi drivers can get befuddled. One new taxi driver, giving up, said to his passenger, "Just tell me right or left." The passenger was new to the area too. Somehow between the two of them, she got back to the hotel.

We met an Australian couple, who, to further complicate things, are used to driving on the left side of the road. They confessed that when they first came here, they would get lost six or seven times a day, now a year later, they only get lost two or three times a day! Such good progress!


Sheik Zaad Road is eight lanes in each direction, with multiple clover leafs, overpasses and underpasses, flyovers and flyunders,...so much so that our new GPS can’t distinguish the layers...never mind the roads that have been adjusted, changed, or added since the maps were made...or since yesterday. This is no joke.

"Recalculating" is a favourite word of the female voice of the GPS.

Once Wayne hauled out his brand new GPS to try to learn the roads and the taxi driver had a really, really good laugh. He said, "Forget the GPS, it'll just take a month or two to learn the roads". Easy for him to say, he's on them all the time.

So what would we use...the obsolete maps? ...the non-existent addresses? ...the non-existent street names? Dubai is slated to acquire thousands of street names and address numbers in 2012, in one fell swoop. Won't that be a fun adjustment!

Currently, people navigate by major landmarks. "I'd like to go to the Iranian hospital" or "I'd like to go to the Dubai Mall", one says to the taxi driver.

However, "I'd like to go to the (obscure) Cosme Surge clinic or "I'd like to go to the Avis Rent-a-Car (one of a dozen) in the Jabel Ali Free Zone", is a tad more complicated.

"Do you have a phone number?" asks the taxi driver. "Yes," had better be your answer if you want to get there, and even then its dicey. You punch in the numbers on your phone or his, get someone on the line and pass the phone to the driver, who is guided along to the destination. Did I mention cell phone use while driving is illegal? Oh dear...then you'll have to talk to the person on the other end yourself and relay the information...Filipino English to Canadian English to Urdu English, with all of the tenses missing or rearranged!

Pity help you if the directions are for the birds and the meter is running. I've been in a taxi where the phone is passed in turn to each passenger..."maybe you can understand what he's/she's saying". When that happens, and it certainly does, the taxi driver usually says, "I want to call a friend".

Lol, you really do need lifelines on the Dubai roads.

Traffic rules

The following traffic rules for the UAE have been floating around the internet without credit to the witty person who originally came up with them...I've searched for the source but unable to find it; when I do, I'll add it to the post.

The UAE has the most road fatalities per capita in the world, no kidding...here are the rules for driving:
1. If your road map is more than a few weeks old, throw it out and get a new one.
2. If you are in Rashidiya and your map is one day old, then it is already obsolete.
3. Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere. Dubai has its own version of traffic rules, which can be summarized as "Hold on and pray!"
4. If it is your priority to cross, forget it and wait.
5. There is no such thing as a dangerous high-speed chase in Dubai. Everyone drives like that.
6. When you plan to get a new car, ask first about its acceleration from 80 to 160 Km/h (recommended: 3 seconds). Very important if you frequently use the Emirates Road.
7. All directions start with Sheikh Zayed Road, which has no beginning and no end.
8. The morning rush hour is from 5:00 AM to 1:00 PM, The evening rush hour is from 1:00 PM to 10:00 PM.
9. Thursday's rush hour starts Wednesday morning.
10. If you slow down at a yellow light, you will be rear-ended and then given a ticket by the Dubai Police.
11. If you are the first one at the intersection, when the light turns green ignore the car honking behind you and count to five to avoid crashing into one of the cars running the red light in cross-traffic.
12. Construction on all main roads is a way of life and a permanent form of entertainment. (Sorry for the inconvenience)
13. All unfamiliar sights are explained by the phrase, "Oh, we must be in Sharjah!"
14. Car horns are actually toys for big boys.
15. Anyone in a Land Cruiser, Tuned Patrol, or Mercedes with tinted windows has the right of way. Period!
16. If you are driving a Corolla, Sunny, or another small Japanese car, stay on the far right lane. No comment!
17. Most roads mysteriously change names as you cross intersections.
18. To ask directions, you must have good knowledge of Hindi/ Malayalam
19. A trip across town will take a minimum of four hours, although Sheikh Zayed Road has an unposted minimum speed of 150 Km/h.
20. It is sobering to realize that local Arabs are taught how to drive by Pakistanis.
21. 18 wheeler trucks are one of the fastest vehicles in Dubai; they can do 120 Km/h on Hatta-Oman Road when fully loaded.
22. The minimum acceptable speed on the Emirates Road is 160 km/h. anything less is considered downright sissy.
23. Al Khail Road is Dubai's daily version of NASCAR.
24. Dubai Autodrome has a new extension: The Emirates Road.
25. WELCOME TO UAE!

Natural dermabrasion

The weather is consistently beautiful here in the UAE except for the occasional wind dust/sand storm.

We seem to be in the middle of a one today. Not a bad one but a mild one. The day started out sunny and clear but now we can’t see very many other buildings. It’s similar to fog but warmer in colour, so not pearl grey in colour like fog, but a mellow creamy yellow haze instead.

When I hold my hand out the open window the air feels warm, soft and smooth, not cold and moist like fog. There is plastic and cardboard floating down through the air from above us in slow motion…now why would that be? Must be the rising heat pushing against gravity. The palm trees are waving like belly dancers below us.

Because I had the kitchen window open a crack, the counter is covered in fine sand. It’s intriguing...should we hustle to the beach for a free dermabrasion!!?

The sand strangely, in not coming from the UAE desert, but from the northwest, from the desert of Iraq, and is carried above the gulf waters for quite a distance before hitting our peninsula and sandblasting the skyscrapers of Dubai.

Nasa’s satellite picture shows the dust storm moving south-east towards the UAE from Iraq. Nasa and Karim Kadim / AP Photo

We had a worse sand storm earlier in the year. All high land marks were completely obliterated, kind of like in a snow storm or squall but the air was warm and dry and creamy...a most unusual sensation, like our minds are playing tricks on us.

We set out for our new church that morning in a newly rented vehicle but struggled to get our bearings on the road, since we couldn’t see the guidepost landmarks and didn’t remember how many exits to count on the highway before turning off.

When we finally got out of the vehicle in the sandy parking lot at the church, we had to shield our eyes from the dust and sand as it whipped about us...but even this was an adventure too, lol.

Instead of stamping the snow off our boots, we shook the sand out of our clothes and hair!

Gotta open a window

A man from the hotel staff came yesterday to open one of our windows at our request. He asked me which window I wanted opened.

"All of them, please", I said.


"No ma'am, only one allowed, ma'am", he said.

Hmmm...I opted for the kitchen window.

He crawled up on the granite counter and proceeded to ream the screw that held the window closed with a drill.

He had the drill bit going the wrong way so the shape in the centre of the screw was obliterated.

Right is tight, left is loose, I said to myself...and that drill was definitely going right, not left.

I watched in disbelief as metal screw filings were flinging out from the screw in all directions.

He stopped and reversed the drill...then went at it again...tearing the screw apart until there was no screw left!

But now the window opens!
Seven inches it opens...which is pretty good for the 40th floor.

"That's enough to throw your own paper airplanes out the window", says Blake.

Our sweet suite

Let me show you our sweet suite, which is a very spacious hotel apartment. There is lots of room for company. Visually pleasing modern Arabic design features let me know that I'm in an Arab country when I look around me. There are gorgeous views out the long blocks of windows in each room. All is very nice.

The scale everywhere is ample. Altogether, there are three thermostats to control temperature. There are doors between all the rooms so that the male head of the household can entertain his male guests while the female members of the family stay separate and out of sight.

See the arabesque design on the sofa...

...and the cut out arabesque design on the lamp.

Geometric lace or screening is popular in a Muslim country where traditionally the women can peek out between the lattice while remaining hidden from view.

So it is a design that pops up frequently, like on this mirror frame.


Heavy oak dining table, silk covered upholstered chairs.

Here's a nod to the original source of spices; the middle east. Muslims perfume their homes and clothes rather heavily. It's encouraged in the Koran.

Tassels are another distinctly Arabian design, as are the plenty of gold threads in the sheers.

Beautiful handles on all of the doors.

Love the clean lines of this set. There are four bathrooms in the suite. This is to keep family separate from visitors, maids separate from family, men separate from women.

Our king size bed in a king size room...a wall of closets, a wall of windows and a large flat screen tv on a large natural oak vanity.

The guest room/ office. The vanity is so long, that we were able to pull up two large chairs and make a double desk. Each single bed is at least a double size.

So nice to work in this kitchen with the wall of windows and stainless steel appliances and granite countertop. Love the kitchen even with its quirks...too bad I have to wiggle the fridge into the hallway a bit to open the oven door...the exhaust hood seems to be just for show...and the kitchen tap came off in my hands the first week.

How can this be?

The men who built this hotel probably never had electricity or running water in their own homes or villages.

A lock on the refrigerator?? Must be for during the fast of Ramadan.

Most people who visit are astonished at the lovely space. A Filipino man said the kitchen counter could sleep two. A British man said, "I hope you realize that you are blessed!" An Australian woman and Arab man said our apartment is the nicest they've been in. So yes, we are very grateful. And even more grateful that we have been spared the guilt of choosing it for ourselves; thankfully, it was chosen for us.

"Here's where you're going to live for the next four months...hope you like it."

Safari, part 3

I wonder how many of these people are staying the night? We watch as people begin to leave the party, to be driven back to their hotels.


We are eagerly looking forward to sleeping under the stars in the desert.

Where will they put all of us? Will we sleep in a Bedouin wool tent of goat's hair?

We watch more people leave.

Soon there is no one left except us two. The entertainment becomes watching the clean up. Dishes are gathered up into plastic bins for washing. Tablecloths are ripped off tables. Garbage bins are filled. Rugs are rolled and cushions are propped against the tables.

The moon is full and we can't see many stars. We notice we're near the airport and a flight path.

What were we thinking?? Who's idea was this anyway?
"You wanted to sleep in the desert," says Wayne, "and I'm trying to fulfill your dreams".

A couple of men set up a Canadian Tire nylon canvas tent for us and fill it with foam mattresses, sheets, sleeping bags, a cooler and a flashlight.

Ma'am, please have a look and tell me if everything is ok. I won't leave until everything is ok.

Who am I...the Queen??

All is fine, thank-you very much, I smile at the man whom I later learn doesn't even own bed sheets.

The cook is going to sleep on the stage. Several hands will sleep on the benches above us. It seems all of the Pakistani men workers are staying the night too. It looks like they live here in the camp around the clock. We listen to them quietly talking together in the dark and listening to a radio. We wish we could understand Urdu.

We are determined to see the stars anyway and get a desert night experience so we put our heads near the wide open door and shortly fall asleep.

In the night I wake and hear a mosquitoe buzzing near my ear. Suddenly I remember a Canadian travel nurse saying, "No need for malaria pills in Dubai unless you're going to be sleeping in the desert."

Dear Lord help!

Wayne's got his sleeping bag pulled over his head. I do likewise.

In the night I hear sounds on the sand by my head, and in the morning there is a loud sarcophany of birds and wildlife...is that a jackell laughing??


In the morning we discover all kinds of interesting tracks made by animals while we slept. Maybe that's why everyone was sleeping off the ground, and maybe why we should have had the tent door zipped shut!









Breakfast of boiled eggs and barbequed weiners, a new jar of marmalade and a new jar of cream cheese, very white squishy bread and an orange drink, instant coffee and tea. When we've had enough and get up, the workers sit and finish off what we've left!!

On the way home with our original driver who came to pick us up and take us back to our hotel appartment, I inocently take out my camera to take a picture of him, as I need a pic of a taxi driver for another post. He instantly slows down to 120 kilometers and quickly puts away his cell phone on which he's been busy texting. Ha! Maybe I've discovered the secret...no words needed, just a camera...to help all these crazy drivers in Dubai to slow down.

Safari continued...

Here's the traditional version of the SUV in the desert.

A camel's gait is easy and rythmic...but the getting up and kneeling down is another experience altogether. In the space of one second or less, the camel goes from one position to the other, in a steep incline, with a huge tendancy to pitch the rider over his head.

How can a person get whiplash from dismounting a camel??
Don't know...but ouch, my neck!

We're going to eat a barbequed meal sitting on cushions...on wool rugs...

on the sand...Arabic style!

The barbeque is hot and the lamb and chicken kabobs are sizzling.

Time for a quick henna...

And a falcon demo...

Before the sun sets...

And the entertainment begins.

A dancer whirling like a dervish...how he keeps his balance is a mystery...

His clothes light up like a Christmas tree.

Belly dancing doesn't have Arabic roots, it's imported entertainment that everyone seems to enjoy.

W and I have signed up for the overnight version...wonder how many people are staying?

Dune bashing safari

"It’s hard to make a living here in Dubai anymore,” said the young Pakistani driver, “the government is being picky and half my paycheck each month goes towards traffic fines”...we listen to him wide eyed as we watch the odometer reach almost 160 kilometers per hour along a marked 60 kilometer one lane construction zone.


We’re on our way to a bit of dune bashing in the desert, and this young driver seems determined to give us a thrill on the highway before the off-road safari even begins.


Driving on the sand dunes is a very popular sport in Dubai. Every self respecting Emirati has a big rig for off-road driving and his children cut their teeth in the desert doing likewise. Our Pakistani but Dubai born driver has a desert driving licence. It takes some know-how to drive on the dunes.

We stop and let a lot of air out of the tires...we’ve now got about 16 pounds per square inch of tire pressure...this will give us better traction on the soft sinking sand...and off we go.

“Fasten your seat belts,” he says. Already fastened in, we all instinctively reach for grab bars.


"I don’t mind if you drive nice and easy," I say in my friendliest voice to the driver. The lady beside me tells me her husband is inclined to motion sickness. He grins sheepishly and adds that he doesn’t want to vomit. I don't want him to vomit either in this topsy turvey vehicle where we would be airborne for some of the time if it weren't for the seatbelts.

"No 911’s," I holler to the driver, sensing firm support from my fellow passengers, "and no rollovers and no helicopter rescues"...hoping this gas pedal foot heavy fellow gets the point.

He does and he’s disgusted...

"What’s the story on that burned out SUV," asks Wayne, as we spy a black abandoned shell.

"The driver of that vehicle set it on fire," says our man..."he had a woman passenger who didn’t like his driving, and the driver was so angry that he stopped in his tracks, got out, and set the SUV on fire".


Everyone chuckles but not as easily as before...we hang on for dear life...


Zooooom....veroooom....the driver is revving and gear shifting to the max...


We're slipping sideways...mustn't let the tires dig in...the horizon lurches...someone's elbow is blocking my view...


Easy...easy...over the peak...mustn't get hung up half-way over...


Then the long slide down the other side...just like in a roller coaster...


At last a break...we spill out of the cars onto the soft sand...

...Heather, with dishevelled hair still standing on end, is relieved to be out of the truck...

...our driver hauls out a snow board for everyone to try.

Wayne is first in line.

"Put your feet beside the foot straps, not in them," are the instructions...that must mean that the rider and board will probably be separated at some point..."Give your glasses and camera and wallet to your wife".


Everyone who tries (four people max) is rewarded with a spectacular spill. Wayne's pockets are full of sand. He grabs at the chance to go a second time, and is the first to make it all the way to the bottom to a hearty round of applause, before the board comes to an abrupt halt and he keeps going...oh...oh...a face plant! His pockets are full of sand. His ears are full of sand. He's a sandman.


A happy sandman.