Qatar قطر

The weekend before this one that just passed (err yes last weekend I guess it's called), I went to Qatar. Been meaning to head down to Qatar all year because its the closest other country to Bahrain (45 minute flight), apart from Saudi Arabia (which I cannot enter). I decided to time my visit with the Qatar vs. Australia World Cup Qualifier though, so as a result, didn't get around to heading down there until 2 weeks out from the end of my term.

I spent all my time in the capital city, Doha. Impressions? Doha is like a bigger, more developed, richer, sandier, more desert-like version of Bahrain, which is more compact and more congested. The traffic was horrible in some parts of Doha though. Horrible, horrible. And full of Land Cruisers. Everyone has a Land Cruiser. Well the Qataris anyway, given that they are 25% of the population they must have a lot of Land Cruisers for so many to be on the streets at the same time. A friend told me every Qatari family has at least two. TWO. Land Cruisers. Among other cars that is.

The expat population in Qatar is larger than in Bahrain and far more disconnected from the local population, the gap is much huger. Qatar's wealth far exceeds Bahrain and for this reason, many Bahrainis view Qataris as somewhat stuck-up, whether this reputation is deserved or not. The fact of the matter is though, that Qatari society is indeed considerably more segregated between locals and expats than that of Bahrain. Whether this is because of their relative wealth, their general attitude or their greater religious conservatism (Qataris follow the Wahhabi school of Islam, as in Saudi Arabia, which includes segregation of the sexes in public life, they just tend to make more exceptions where making money is concerned) or for what reason, I am not sure but I hung out with non-Qatari expats my whole time there (not that I didn't enjoy it), this would hardly ever happen to a visitor to Bahrain. But yes I hung out with Dutch, Algerian, Egyptian, Syrian, Lebanese and Czech people... cool. :-)

In usual LX fashion, I didn't get to see a great deal because I was too lazy to get around to seeing stuff but I did see the following things:

- ASPIRE area including the big stadium, the big tower which is actually a big screen and other technological wonders. This was all pretty cool and impressive and all but would've been cooler if the weather hadn't been sandstorm all over and a blanket of invisibility.



















- Villagio Mall. Because apparently "Villagio" is a clever play on words on "Bellagio" ala the famous casino in Vegas. Clever. The mall was no less opulent, however. It was all shiny marble and whatnot, a part of it was decorated in a European style with pretend houses with balconies and things built into the walls and the piece de resistance. They had a freakin' Venice style canal system running through the mall, complete with gondolas controlled by small Filipino men in Venetian style getup. Classy. Doha is the Venice of the Gulf.


































- The Landmark Mall. Yep another mall. Big and stuff. Hard to park. Yup. Lots of Land Cruisers. Yuuuup. Shops and cafes. Uhuh. Marble and columns. *Sigh*. Well we went to a cafe called Opera which had fairly sub-standard fare mostly but decent cheesecake.

- The Corniche. Was as nice as people said, 24km long, but not like super-amazingly splendidly spectacular. In the sense that, it was a stretch of concrete along the sea with skyscrapers around, some of which are still under construction. Maybe I'm just desensized to cool things, I mean it was nice to sit there and chill but yeah... we have corniches in Bahrain too, they might be smaller but theyre just as good imho. Plus there were huge amounts of cockroaches everywhere. yuk.





















- This old souq area the name of which I forget. This was my favourite thing in Doha actually, sort of like the Bastakia Quarter in Dubai but with shisha cafes and different shops. It was really nice, old Arabian style buildings and whatnot. Chilled her with some shisha and Lemon/Mint and watched the football channel.




















- And finally, of course, the football match! Yeah baby. Australia 3 - 1 Qatar. We came, we saw, we dominated and we conquered. It was a very interesting experience being at this match. I'm still yet to understand why marching bands seem to be a common spectacle at football matches in the Gulf. Seeing a wall of men in thobes taking up half the stadium was a novel sight, I must admit. There is also the Khaleeji habit of leaving a match halfway when your team is losing. Was quite shocking seeing the stadium half empty at the 65 min mark when it was at capacity at the start of the match.





















By the way, we managed to randomly get into the VIP area which was invite-only. We accidentally went through the entrance for it and were just standing at the door looking lost and wondering where to go when I asked a random Aussie guy where to get tickets for the match. He said he had no idea cos he got his invitations from his company but offered two spare invites to us. Though there were six of us, we thought we'd try our luck anyway and they let us all in. So there we were with a bunch of Sheikhs and important business people, being treated to free food and drinks and a nice seating area with kash7a furniture and whatnot. It was pretty cool. Plus we were really close to the action. :)

Written: [Courtyard of Al-Rabie Hotel, Damascus] 7.45pm 17th May

The courtyard is truly a blessing as it gives character to a hotel that would otherwise be fairly unremarkable. The marble tiles, fountain, chirping birds, old furniture and hanging vines all contribute to the generally relaxed, old and musty atmosphere of the hotel. The young guys that run it haev evidently run out of people to be interested in or foreigners to be surprised by as they approach their work in a relaxed but business-like manner. Although, maybe it's just me that they don't like given their general bruskness and constant rebuffs of my attempts to communicate in Arabic with their more than adequate English.

This place must certainly be over 100 years old yet everything in it seems normal, utilitarian and serves a purpose. The tourists recline on the more comfortable of the older chairs as if they were musty old armchairs in their livingrooms, as they read books. The older tourists huddle around small tables reading guidebooks, talking in hushed tones and reacting with muted wonder at the loud call to prayer that emanates from the large mosque.

The Chinese girl wearing a beautiful silk robe (knee-length, black) that contrasts perfectly with her alabaster skin thinks nothing of traipsing along the marble tiles, probably laid over 100 years ago, on her way to the ancient stairwell leading to the room in which she sleeps, that has probably never seen the modern wonders of TV and Air Conditioning, born of an older, more practical form of climate control and entertainment, before the advent of such luxuries. As she trails the sickly synthetic yet strangely emasculating (for me, not for her) scent of designer skincare product, it seems to stand at odds with the shisha pipes and decaying wooden furniture around it.
































This is the beauty of Damascus, as LP says, the locals shop in the ancient souqs, live in the Old City, pray in the Ummayad Mosque, bathe in the Ottoman-ear hammmams and fill the streets with a lifestyle that has changed so much yet so litle in Syria's long and turbulent history. The two old men playing backgammon outside a butcher's shop in the shade of the stone buildings of the old city. The men sharing a shisha and a conversation in the qahwa opposite the Ummayad Mosque. The women bargaining for spices and textiles in Hammidya Souq, 100+ years old. The kids bouncing a football against the eroding stone walls, a grey that is not so much unforgiving as seemingly eternal.

How many empires have these people seen come and go? Romans, Persians, Abbasids, Ummayads, Greeks, Ottomans, French, Ba'athists, and now, slowly encroaching, the empire of the tourist. The clothes may now be made of cheap manufactured Chinese textile and there may be satellite dishes above the slums, but some things in Damashq, as-Sham, will never change. And all those things can be found in the smile of the tea-maker as he serves the young German girl tea, directs his older son on where to place more stools, grips the shoulder, reassuringly, of his younger son who's playing on his electronic keyboard, and takes a relaxed, pensive drag on his cigarette as Damashq moves before his eyes.

Written: [Sheikh Zayed Mosque, Abu Dhabi] 5.23pm 4th May

Prayer Room

It is possible to swallowed up in a place like this, the light bounces off the white columns, dances around the room like so many fingers of God. As the tourists wander around, mouths open, looking at the opulence, they seem irrelevant, ants, no identity, no uniqueness. Humbling. A man-made structure can contain God in it if the minds of the men are turned towards Him. He made us in His image or do we make ourselves, our experiences, our work in His image?

Now empty, the hall seems less Heavenly. The sound of a vacuum cleaner reminds me that even Majesty requires hoovering. Was God in the minds of the architects or simply grandeur? Glory? Biggest mosque in the world? Who is flexing their might here? Man or God? I can outbuild you, man says, towers reaching towards the Heavens, sprawling Halls, domes, minarets, colours, volumes, carpets, marble and gold. All to bring me closer to You, closer to knowing You. But what is the achievement? God resides in our hearts, our minds and our souls. A simple prayer rug in Gaza holds more power than 1000 Sheikh Zayed Mosques. Anything over and above that is conflited.

God or Glory? If the minaret is built tall enough can it pierce the clouds and the Heavens themselves? Steadfastly reaching towards God, declaring, we will outbuild you, see Man's might. Man is foolish, Heaven has always been in our heats and we get closer to God on that Gaza prayer rug and more distant with every shiny marble column.

Written: [My Room] 5.00am 20th April

At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be myserious and unexplorable, that land and sea be infinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because we must be refreshed by the sight of inexhaustible vigor, vast and Titanic features, the seacoast with its wrecks, the wilderness with its living and its decaying trees, the thunder cloud, and the rain which lasts three weeks and produces freshets. We need to witness our own limits transgressed, and some life pasturing freely where we never wander.

Pg.205 Henry David Thoreau - Walden

Very simple, very obvious, very true and very well written. Adventure tourism lives on, as does our quest for beauty, but beauty can be found everywhere, not just in nature. From the bazaars of old Cairo, to the warrens of Barcelona's Barri Goti. From the metropolish of Tokyo to the serenity of Turkey's Blue Mosque. From the sophisticated Melburnian cofee culture to the relaxed Bahraini way of conversation, hospitality and family. Beauty can be found everywhere.

Direct your eyesight inward, and you'll find
A thousand regions in your mind
yet undiscovered. Travel them, and be
Expert in home-cosmography"

Pg. 207 Henry David Thoreau - Walden

I desire to speak somewhere without bounds; like a man in a waking moment, to men in their waking moments; for I am convinced that I cannot exaggerate enough even to lay the foundations of a true expression. Who that has heard a strain of music feared then lest he should speak extravagantly forever?

Pg. 209 Henry David Thoreau - Walden

However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life poor as it is. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms-house as brigthly as from the rich man's abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contendly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace.

Pg. 211 Henry David Thoreau - Walden

Written: [Tunis Carthage Airport] 12.30pm April 6th

And with one 'shukran' and a mispronounecd 'cappucin' I'm back in the Arab world again. "Sa'a kam law sama7t?". He tells me its 11.30am Algerian time and 12.30pm Tunis time. Yet again I feel strangely comfortable, even in North Africa which is not much like the other Arab countries I already know and love.
After 2 weeks of thinking and talking in Spanish, it's hard to switch back to even the basic Arabic that I know but I feel I'm shifting back into the Arab frame of mind. Time to relax, have a laugh, share a few pleasantries and not take life too seriously - the latter coming easy for an Australian. And of Spain? A camera full of memories, a shitload of souvenirs and another heart full of longing. The food was mostly terrible, the coffee mostly excruiciatingly bad, but the people often friendly and always boisterous.
The marked differences between Spaniards and Italians were in my face the whole way. More funky, flamboyant, unrestricted and free. Barcelona was teeming with subcultures, lesbians, punks, goths, hippies, arty kids, lefties, preppies... the list goes on.
The cities did not have as much character in their streets as in Italy but their distinctions very much lay in the character of the people.

Written: [Sevilla] April 4th 2.45am

The Andalusian capital and home of flamenco, bull runs and the best ever Santa Semana. Haven't seen much of those three but certainly loving the freedom and chilledness of the Spanish South. Streets are busy, places are open, people are boisterous well into the night. The food and coffee has been disappointing, like everywhere else we've been in Spain, but the vibe is fantastic and the narrow warrens and cobblestoned streets of the Old Town are some of the best in Spain.

The beauty of the Alcazar is also unrivalled so far, the gardens, tiling, architecture and meticulous attention to detail are sheer beauty. I could spend days exploring and chilling the plazas and jardins. The Catedral rises up like an eerie Dracula's castle at night, a massive Gothic monument to Christianity. It still incorporates the 90m minaret of the old mosque which it replaced and some reinassance period elements from the reconstruction. The inside of the main prayer hall is far from spectacular, however, and rather like any other big church.

This area with the Alcazar and the Catedral is really beautiful. At night when there is no one around and just the dim street lighting and the moonlight, to walk through this area is like a dream. During the day, the area is crowded with tourists but still the few small plazas and street bars around serve as good platforms for people watching and monument gazing. The incessant ringing of the bells is at first atmospheric but subsequently rather annoying. As are the hoardes of schoolkid tour groups. The beautiful weather, however, makes everything ok.

I love my red havaianas but am lusting for more shoes.
I also love tiles. Am buying too many souvenirs, far too many.
This Hotel Abanico is beautiful.

pg. 74 Walden
When Thoreau describes his surroundings in the woods it is very engaging and beautiful. In his section 'sounds' he does this, and discusses the old Eastern concept of being constantly aware of the moment, employing all senses to observe, etc. It's a powerfully appealing concept and coupled with his descriptive writing (which he does very well) is a strong impetus for personal change in this direction - but that requires much discipline, that which I'm bad at. Could use writing as a means to achieve this better...

Written: [Barcelona] 8.45pm 28th March

Starbucks in the Barri Goti with Sinatra painfully but melodiously churning through love songs. After a day of random meandering which started off with a trip to the hospital in search of medical help for my conjunctivitis (my conversational ability in Spanish surprised myself) and a bunch of Gaudis (the double take at La Sagrada Familia was particularly memorable), my mood worsened as we headed back to La Rambla and selected a rather unfortunate restaurant - Gaudi's Tapas or something equally tourist enticing. It felt like a quasi-English pub with bad service and overpriced food. No tip. The warrens of la Ciutat Vella continue to toss up gems but unfortunately, in the very Murphy's Law sense, never the ones we seem to need at the time. So after a half bottle of Rioja, we were too sleepy to search and settled on the comfort of Starbucks. After milky coffee, cake and a cigarette, the sofa seems a good place to sleep, or to at least read Walden.

It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.

Page 59, Henry David Thoreau - "Walden"

To a philosopher all news, as it is called, is gossip, and they who edit and read it are old women over their tea!

Page 61, Henry David Thoreau - "Walden"

While the former quote is inspiring, I'm not sure if I agree with the latter. This attitude to current affairs has been exhibited by a number of philosophers as they believe their ideas transcend that of the normal populace. However, I find this arrogant. Alain de Botton has it right when he makes philosophy for the common man. What is the good of philosophy if it cannot enrich people's lives? And what is the good of being of an enormous intellect if you cannot use it to affect the people around you positively? And how could you do this without understanding what goes on in the day-to-day goings on of the world? On the other hand, the reality of popular media these days is indeed embarassing and far from awe-inspiring. There are very few newspapers and even fewer television news programs which are impartial enough to be reliable. The rest are controlled by corporations and the people's fickle demand for sensational information.

Written: [Barcelona] 11.50pm 27th March

At a certain season of our life we are accustomed to consider every spot as a possible site of a house. Wherever I sat, there I might live, and the landscape radiated from me accordingly.'

Pg. 53 Henry David Thoreau - "Walden"

An interesting meditation to read now when I'm travelling. I've often imagined living in the places I travel to, comparing Rome to Barcelona, Melbourne to Bahrain.

Barcelona does grip me as a city and even moreso as a possible place to live than Rome, in all its historical splendour. The people here seem more youthful and free, without so much societal constraint. It's almost as if the Romans are weighed down by their history, politics, statuses and expectations. Walking through the, some narrow, some wide, streets of Barcelona that appear to be teeming with life, I am drawn to every colourful shopfront and every noisy tapas bar. I am drawn to its diverse inhabitants all chattering away in their beautiful language.

I am drawn to a balcony in an old gothic building, one I can make my own with pot plants and vines, that I can smoke, read and voyeurise on with a loved one or alone as Barcelonian ants crawl around below. I have a strong urge to discover every nook and cranny of this city, the best cafes, edgiest bars, most delectable delicacies and those shops that stock the one thing you want at a particular time. I romanticise about the idea of being one of those Spaniards with their funky glasses and fashionable haircuts, joking with their friends and kissing their novias.

The Romans were a stylish, poised and attractive bunch but the Barcelonians, them I could fall in love with.

Some Reflection

I really do reflect better when discussing my thoughts with someone, I think I need a sounding board for my reflection rather than the solitude more commonly associated with it. For example, I have come to realise some things about myself through a recent conversation with someone close. To start with, I have travelled quite a lot. I've been alive for 22 and a half years and in that time I have been to 22 countries. In just the last year, 2007, I was in 12 different countries and in 2008, already, I have been to 5 different countries. I am fairly impressed with my achievement in this regard and I have to say, it's been a hell of a journey. One outcome of this, however, is that my attitude to travel has changed. I no longer feel the burning desire and excitement upon setting foot in a foreign land. The more you travel, the more different cultures, people and things you see, the more you realise that we are indeed all very similar. This doesn't mean I don't appreciate travel any more, I still love it and strive for it, the beauty of Rome and the Pyramids, the excitement and buzz of Dubai, the heart and soul of Cairo, all these things have reminded me recently that short-time travelling, 'tourism' if you like, is still a very worthwhile adventure. However, I am beginning to understand that my priorities have shifted somewhat.

I am still a nomad. And to me nomadism is not about travelling, it's much broader, it's situational. I now look forward to not short-term experiences but experiencing longer term situations. For instance, the first six months in Bahrain were one type of experience and situation. It was an infatuation of sorts, a burgeoning understanding and love for a country and its people, a passion and drive to move an organisation, to which I've contribute my hard work and my heart for the last 5 years, forward. These last six months are going to be a different kind of situation, the understanding and love has turned to a growing comfort and ease, much like passing the infatuation stage in a relationship and progressing to a stage of comfort and companionship. And having the knowledge that I will be leaving, not only Bahrain, but AIESEC at the end of this term has given me a new perspective on the organisation also, gone is the lust for results and reputation, and the drive to succeed in order to ensure my next position in the network, and it's instead replaced with a deep commitment to ensure that AIESEC Bahrain is in a much better place after I leave, to when I started. These last six months will be more about cherishing the moments, and the people, that have come to define my experience here in Bahrain, rather than a thirst for discovering new things and feelings.

The situational thing goes further. I know when I arrive back in Melbourne, the feelings and emotions I will have will be situational, the situation of arriving back home after a year abroad is a unique one that I have never experienced. Rediscovering my love for my city, my friends and my family, in the flesh, will be a new situation, as will rediscovering how I feel about my academic activities, especially given the absence of AIESEC during the course of them for the 18 months after I arrive. And after that, I will be looking for new, different and more challenging situations. The internship I intend to take after I graduate will be an opportunity for such a thing, as will the many other steps that I will, insha'allah, take during the course of my life in the future. The future is an interesting thing, I think the reason why I've never felt anxious or uncomfortable with it is that, at this point I have enough optimism to know that I will make good decisions and will continue to be presented with good opportunities. May that optimism never fade.

(In other news, Indian music is very good, I have gained too much weight from unhealthy food and lack of exercise, and Support Obama on Super Tuesday for he is the new hope.)

Back in Cairo

What is it that strikes me most? Is it the Arabic pop music blaring from the cafe speakers? The thick Egyptian accent 'yez' of the seving staff? The fact that I can smoke inside the terminal bulding? The 100 "taxi, ya basha?" upon arrival? It feels good, if slightly disorienting, to be back in this massive, chaotic, bustling hub of the Arab world. Surely the Arab heart beats strongest in Cairo, umm al-Balad, mother of cities.

My thoughts extend to those finer little things I love, freshly squeezed orange juice, an americano (long black in aussie) to quench my thirst (thi sis the coffee I always order when I'm thirsty, it's black but doesnt dehydrate you like espresso), the fresh new Moleskine diary with Italian all over it (my first real Italian Moleskine), the Italian Dunhills that are slowly running out (back to horrible Egyptian cigarrettes after that for a few days til I get back to the Gulf), the fine espressi, chinati, panini, pasta, pizza, fashion that I'm certainly going to miss and my one and only prized purchase from Italy - a Zara overcoat from Roma, a nice souvenir.

This cafe is an oasis of calm, I await my meter cab as I'm in no mood to argue over the fare with a wily Masri gentleman. In this oasis, my thoughts extend back to the people + work forever in the back of my mind. A Nigerian buddy calls inviting fun with friends. Work is waiting back in Bahrain, new interns arriving, Microsoft proposal, Gulf conference, MC applications, finances, logistics. My family is there, their kindness, generosity and love are never far from my mind. My friends, different people in different places, all over the world, all playing a different role in my life. People I miss, some intensely, some momentarily, some I should miss but don't and some I shouldn't but do. Bahrain, people, food, chilling... Melbourne, university, coffee, places... the strange turns my life seems to be taking... What will 2008 bring? What surprises?

Not now though - another shiny Egyptian visa sticker has invaded my worn out passport and my wallet is full of pounds. Time to get lost in a haze of smoke, 'habibis' , pollution, bashas, traffic and soul.

Dubai Sleaze or Dubai Dream?

There's something about sleazy hotel bars that fascinates me. I always think of Bill Murray hunched over his whiskey in Tokyo, lost in traslation. The bar in this particular hotel that I am staying in is, for me, a perfect representation of Dubai in all its glory.

Let's recount, the bar is called "Rendezvous", a sleazy enough name in itself. The night's entertainment consisted of three Russian women in their early 30s wearing slinky, tight, short bright sparkly gold dresses shimmying around on stage to Arabic songs played by their probably Egyptian keyboardist. They were also singing Arabic songs (impressive), along with Russian and English songs, much to the delight of the crowd. These girls were followed by a Russian belly-dancer with amazing cleavage, much to the delight of said crowd.

And the crowd, what a mix. Khaleeji men in thobes (something tells me mostly Saudi with a few Qataris mixed in), clapping and cheering on these girls like there's no tomorrow. Middle-Aged Russian girls standing around the bar smoking slims furiously, dressed in all sorts of gaudy attire, one enormously fat one yelling "Masha!" at her friend constantly, flirting outrageoulsy with thobed men. Are they prostitutes? Possibly, maybe not though, that's the sad thing.

Another group of thobed men stands at the back of the bar, clapping and laughin racuously, flirting with their Russian whores, saying "ya tebya lyublyu... ya TEBYA lyublyu..." as the very same lyrics of the song are belted form the stage. It's always easier to say "I love you" in another language, just like swearing, you never really feel the impact of your words.

And what about that lone thobed man sitting hunched Bill Murray style over his beer? Looking at everything with a slight bemusement, or is that disdain? Why is he not like his more loose thobed counterparts? What about the group of Indian businessmen, pointing and conversing? What about their African counterparts on the other table? What about the conspicuously American man, sticking out like a sore thumb, with his short-sleeved blue shirt tucked into his light blue jeans and runners on his feet? "Budweiser, thanks", seemingly oblivious to the relatively poor quality of his chosen beer, caught in a subtle patriotic fervour.

What about the serving staff? Filipina barmaids in tiny skirts run around asking if I want another beer and putting nuts in front of me. South Indians behind the bar quite clearly incapable of pouring the beer properly (too much head is bad), let alone knowing the difference in taste between the Danish, Australian, Dutch, Belgian and American offerings on tap.

In fact the only nationalities seemingly conspicuously absent from this bar are Western Europeans. Perhaps they prefer sleaze in Spain, Italy or Eastern Europe, something a little closer to home?

What is it about this place? Is it the sleazy dim lighting? The ridiculously loud music? The wood-grain as far as the eye can see? Is it my table? With its Aussie beer branded coasters, American beer branded advertising, Indian beer branded ashtray, Danish beer branded receptacle holding my Belgian beer which is slowly emptying?

Those who think these bars are confined to the sorts of hooker pickup hotels you find on the appropriately titled Exhibition Avenue in Bahrain, dont fool yourself, this is a four star hotel.

What are these people doing here anyway? It's a freakin' Tuesday night. Are they looking for some entertainment on a business trip? Looking to escape their family back in Saudi, buyoed by the relative freedom and control their society bestows upon them? Are they looking for action? Money? Are they lonely?

As I sit on my balcony looking out over the street below, typing this, trying to picture in my mind's eye the goings on of "Rendezvous", I hear a distinctly female Russian voice calling, almost pleading, from below... "Masha... Masha... Slushai menya (listen to me)" Lonely indeed.

For those people that said Dubai is a city with no soul, maybe it doesn't have one heartbeat, but it has many, all so segregated yet thrown together, chasing something but no one really knows what. The reclusively wealthy, above-it-all Emiratis? The fornicating Saudis? The sore-thumb Americans? The desperate, tactless but endearingly confident Russian girls? The curious but aloof Indian businessmen? The poor labourers eking out a meaghre living? The Egyptian concierges and hotel staff, smiling and smarming their way through the day? And many, many more... All chasing something. Dubai is the land of opportunity of the East.This is the Dubai dream.

Jordan Post 4 - Aqaba العقبة and Wadi Rum وادي رم

During my last weekend in Jordan, Saba, Momo, Oks and I went on a road trip to the south. Unfortunately, I didn't take many photos during this time but it was a really cool trip so I thought I'd put up my thoughts on the places we visited and the time we had.

First stop was Aqaba, we drove there at night and arrived at something like 3am. Aqaba is a port and resort city in the southern most part of Jordan, on the Saudi border. It allows Jordan strategic access to the Gulf of Aqaba and the many trade and tourism opportunities that come with it. The place is pretty much full of Egyptians (thanks to its proximity to the Sinai) and also has quite a lot of holiday makers from Saudi, other parts of Jordan and other parts of the Middle East.



After we arrived we headed straight for Burger King to use their bathroom facilities, despite the fact that they were actually closed, they were friendly enough to let us in and use their facilities. Unlike the neighbouring "Chicken and Buscuits" restaurant which obviously employed a group of assholes who refused to let us in, what the hell kind of a combination is "Chicken and Biscuits" anyway. Well we got them back by sitting around looking menacing in their outdoor seating area afterwards.

After that we went to downtown Aqaba and enjoyed some much needed nourishment in the form of fuul and ta'miyah. We headed for the beach straight after, even though it was still dark and around 4-5am, and the plan was to either chill all night and not sleep or sleep on the beach (either on matrasses or in the car). This plan was foiled by the fact that we were all very tried, grumpy and the sun brought out the heat and the flies. After an unsuccessful attempt at sleepin gon my part (it was more successful for Saba who managed not only to sleep but also to sleeptalk amusing inanities), we resolved to actually check in to a hotel room to get a few hours of proper sleep. The above picture is actually a view from said hotel room. Momo negotiated the price and the hotel guy seemed a little peeved that it actually ended up being for a group of foreigners who he had to charge local rates, ha.

After the badly needed sleep intermission, followed by a frustrating disagreement with the hotel shower (a key reason for our decision to check in there in the first palce) which was only trickling water, we went to Momo's family's house for "lunch". Lunch was as fantastic, as I have now come to expect from Arabic home cooking, and major props go to Momo's mum and dad who were really very cool.

Following this we headed back to the beach, had a bit of a splash around, I made an unsuccessful attempt at snorkeling which I had never done before, and couldnt really do because water kept seeping into my face gear (damn).

After all this we headed for Wadi Rum. Wadi Rum is a valley cut into the desert, sandstone and granite rock in the southwest of Jordan. It is a popular tourist destination and many camps have sprung up on the outskirts of the valley, along with Bedouins who ferry tourists directly into the middle of it to allow for cool experiences camping out in the desert. This latter experience is what we were in fact going for.

Unfortunately, this plan was foiled by our late departure from Aqaba and an absolutely horrific bus accident that waylayed us along the highway for a good half hour or more. This accident, I have never seen something like it. There were people covered in blood, screaming and crying, there were dead bodies lying on the road. We arrived probably around 5 minute after the accident actually occurred so the ambulances had not gotten there yet. Momo and I spent some time going around passing people water and trying to be useful, although there wasn't much that we could really do. After the ambulances arrived, we helped some people inside and the dead bodies were covered in body bags and taken away. After it was obvious that the emergency services more or less had control of the situation, given that we were pretty much more in the way than helping, and the fact that the remnants of the bus could explode at any time, we decided to try to go around the accident via a dirt road and head for Wadi Rum.

I think one thing I learned from the experience is the ever-present realisation that human life is so unbelievably fragile. To think that people can be on a bus heading to see loved ones, for business, for a holiday, one minute and then be dead the next, lying on the road amidst twisted metal and body parts. It really makes you think about how much a human life is worth in this world, and why people don't take more precautons that could really save so many lives.

We did this successfully but we were too late to catch the Bedouins going out into the desert, and ended up having to settle for one of the aforementioned camps. After viewing a few camps and arguing a little bit about which camp to settle for, we decided to settle on one.


The Egyptian-run camp was quite nice actually, despite the heavy presence of European tourists, and the Egyptian guys there were nice enough to fix us a meal (the obligatory fuul, ta'miyah and labneh) and some shisha despite the fact that we were certainly late for both.

It was completely dark by then, as they had switched off all the lights and most of the inhabitants went to sleep, so it was nice to just be alone with the food, shisha and starry starry sky. The next morning, we hung out at the camp for a bit, had breakfast and headed back to Amman in time to drop the rental car off at the appropriate time.

Big thanks go out to my travelling companions who had to bear with me during a time when my mood was not the best. All in all, it was certainly an eventful and fun trip.

The most interesting parts were:

- The many stops for bleary-eyed roadside coffee and amusing desert urination
- The singalongs in the car to our favourite Arabic tunes and bickering over which song to play, and not to play
- The opportunities to drive through the desert, the scenic King's Highway and the Jordanian villages we came across
- The splash around at the extremely rocky Aqaba beach, the sand (dirt?) of which I was silly enough to walk on bare foot, no thanks to Momo, an dodge many cigarrette butts, rocks and bits of glass.
- The camping at Wadi Rum with the good food, good shisha and solitude.
- The unscheduled stop at Petra to enquire about conference facilities
- The harrowing accident, I realise its bad taste to describe it as 'interesting' but it really was a shell-shocking experience. Up until this point, I don't think I'd ever seen a dead body, and certainly not one lying like a rag doll on the road covered in blood with bits of skull showing. My heart and thoughts go out to the families of those that died and to those that survived the crash. It was in the paper the next day, 7 dead, such a shame.

I will probably do a brief wrap up post about Jordan after this, I'm so slow. It's been 3 weeks since I finished my trip and I'm still going on it!

Jordan Part 3 - Madaba مادبا, Mt. Nebo جبل نيبو, and the Dead Sea ألبَحْر ألمَيّت

These three places were all pretty cool short day trips from Amman.

Madaba is pretty much a tourist town and is best known for its collection of Byzantine and Umayyad mosaics. Checking these out, and old churches, are pretty much the only things to do in Madaba so don't go here if you're not historically inclined.

In addition to the mosaics themselves, some of the churches are pretty old and pretty cool to walk around in, they have pretty cheap entry fees, the city is easy to navigate in a cab (stock 1JD fare to anywhere around but you could easily walk it if it isn't too hot) and it all doesn't take very long.


There is a really awesome restaurant very close to one of the Orthodox churches that we checked out, it was a little on the expensive side but was absolutely worth every fil because it was in this really nice tree-filled courtyard with wooden tables and atmopshere abounding. And there was good hummous and grilled chicken.

After a late lunch we went to one last church before moving onto Mt. Nebo. I can't remember whether this was the church we saw last or one we saw earlier but the thing I liked about it was that it took me back to my Russian Orthodox roots. The Byzantine empire was an Orthodox one and so the imagery and layout of this particular church were very very familiar to me.

After the last church, we caught a cab to Mt. Nebo. This mountain is supposedly the place where God revealed the Promised Land to Moses and where Moses is supposedly buried (although apparently the accuracy of these suppositions are still being debated by historians).

At the top of the mountain (which is apparentl 817m above sea level though it didnt feel that high) you get the view of the Promised Land with a handy basic little map to point out all the biblical places we've come to know and love from The Bible. I believe the first reaction is usually "that patch of brown is the Promised Land? Hmm". Underhwelming, perhaps.

Another cool thing on Mt. Nebo is this stylised cross sculpture that was put up by an Italian sculptor some time ago. It cuts a fairly striking figure on top of the mountain.



The Mt. Nebo site also has a nice old church which is another memorial to Moses.


So after we finished at the mountain and went down (past the old Greek Orthodox pensioners who were making their last pilgrimage and the nuns out and about for some inspiration) planning to make tracks to the Dead Sea which was apparently around 12km away along a road leading directly from Mt. Nebo. The plan was to find a cheap cab or service, or hitch a ride with someone. After asking for advice from the Tourist Police who advised us to sit and wait, and noting that most of the cars were going the other way, back towards Madaba.

After sitting and waiting idly for around 10 minutes we somehow find ourselves sharing cigarrettes and Pepsi with the very friendly tourist police. They spoke almost no English, we spoke almost no Arabic, somehow we got by and had one of the funniest, most random converrsations I am likely to remember for a long time. The police were funny bastards, making fun of all the tourists, ogling all the girls walking past, making fun of the poor woman who was taking a driving lesson and managed to stall her car outside Mt. Nebo, making fun of the couple driving towards the Dead Sea (advising us not to try to hitch with them because they want to make out [this bit communicated by furious kissing noises] and wouldnt want us to watch).

After this broken arabic/english conversation which Saba and I somehow managed to understand between our fairly crappy Arabic (hers apparently, better than mine, according to the head tourist policeman), we decided to finally make tracks back to Madaba, and Amman, and leave Dead Sea for another day.

And we did go back to the Dead Sea a few days later and it was awesome!


We managed to catch the sunset (not really difficult given we are prone to waking up in the afternoon and being horribly late everywhere) and it was super beautiful. The Dead Sea is 420m below sea level and its shores are the lowest points on land earth. The Sea itself is something like 30% salt and has a whole bunch of other minerals and things, so it's supposed to be very good for the skin but horribly horribly painful for the eyes or any other abrasions you may have. It's also impossible to sink (despite Saba panicking the minute her feet left the bottom of the seafloor and attempting to drown herself).

The Dead Sea region is blanketed in hotels and resorts which you can stay at if you're rich, or pay a day fee to visit the private beaches of. There is also a public beach called Amman Beach which costs 5JD to enter. This is the one we went to as it was perfectly fine for our purposes.

Anyways after floating around in this for over an hour, we decided to find a way back to Amman (which is only 45 mins away by bus), managed to get a ride with a friendly cab driver (once again, named Ahmed) and hightailed it back. Below is a picture of me in one of my floating moments. Til the next post, gentlemen and women.

Jordan Part 2 - Petra البتراء

Petra, after millions of random votes from all over the world and some extraordinarily heavy lobbying from the Jordanian royal family, is apparently one of the new seven wonders of the world. So a visit to Jordan means you have to visit Petra, even if it means you have to shell out 26JD (approx. US$35) for a 2 day visit.

Well I have to say that it was well worth it, despite our laziness and inability to wake up early enough to get to Petra before midday as we intended... or go to Petra early in the morning on Day 2 as we planned... it was an amazing experience.

Petra is best done with an overnight stay at least, do not attempt to do Petra in one day because it will be too stressful and not chilled enough to properly be able to take in the beauty and majesty of the place. This overnight stay will most likely be imposed on you in the town of Wadi Musa, a fairly boring (think sleepy village) and unfriendly (think sleepy village overrun by tourists that are hated by the locals) place that has a few decent restaurants and your fair share of budget hotels.

All this is well worth it however when you enter Petra and walk through the amazing Siq (meaning shaft in Arabic), the narrow (1.2km approx) walkway between two massive cliffs that leads you to the Treasury and the entrance to the ancient town.


Another suggestion. Do not take a horse/carriage through the siq, it is ridiculously expensive and will not allow you to properly take in the amazingness of it. The siq is best down by slow meandering walk, stopping at a bench to admire it once in a while.

The siq eventually leads you to the Treasury, the most photographed and famous part of Petra.


Yes it is a huge building hewn out of a cliff-face. It's as cool as it sounds, except for the hoardes and hoardes of lingering tourists taking happy snaps and constant touting of various animal transportation (horse, donkey, camel). There is a tea shop right outside also which is highly recommended for tea and chilling.

There are a few must-sees in Petra, the Siq and the Treasure being two major ones, but no visit to Petra should be complete without a small detour off the beaten track. It doesnt have to be a 3 hour hike up a random cliff to be enjoyable, but at least do something small or go somewhere near that isn't overrun by tourists. We, for example, climbed a random small hill and chilled there for a while looking at the scenery below, it was my personal favourite part of the trip.

That night we found this cool bar inside Petra called "Cave Bar". The guidebook was right, it's not often you get to sit in a bar inside a 2000 year old cave. And not only that, we really did sit inside a cave. Mmmm... martini and campari in a cave :)

The owners of the bar very friendly, one of them insisted that he'd seen us there before (despite neither of us having ever even been to Petra) and then followed this up by suggesting that I looked Jordanian and Saba looked Egyptian. Interesting. Apparently we is good beoble.

And then after that, a boring night in Wadi Musa and back to Petra on Day 2.

It is hard to believe sometimes that Petra is considered to have been built some time around 300-400 BC (by an ancient race of Arabic predecessors called the Nabateans). The sheer magnificence of some of the buildings is difficult to replicate even today using our advanced methods of construction. On Day 2, with the aide of a donkey (we were strapped for time after realising the last bus for Amman leaves at noon and not wanting to spend another boring night in Wadi Musa), we climbed on top of another, bigger mountain to see the Monastery.

The Monastery, in my opinion, is arguably cooler and more impressive than the Treasury. This could be due to the fact that its on top of a fairly huge mountain and there were only around 10 other people there when we got there (clearly the hordes of tourists are lazy and not interested in donkeys). There is another tea stand up there (again highly recommended for chilling purposes) and a whole lot of different peddlers all selling more or less the same 'traditional souvenir' type wares all the way up the mountain. The good thing about them is that they're Bedouins and it's good to know that these people can somehow make a living off the ridiculously overrun Petra.

After seeing the Monastery we climbed down the mountain on foot and headed straight back past the Monastery and the Siq towards Wadi Musa and the buses to Amman.

So that concludes my post about the first World Wonder I have seen so far and hopefully will be more to come. Many thanks go to the friendly Jordanian people including:
- Ahmed, the cab driver, who gave us competitive rates and ferried us around Wadi Musa
- the hotel (Orient Gate Hotel, stay there, nice balconies, clean rooms, only 15JD for a twin share with private bathroom and breakfast) owner who met us at the bus station and casually suggested we check out his place rather than touting us like a madman
- the Egyptians at the Cleopatra restaurant for feeding us decent foul and hommous (despite extraordinarily overpriced chips)
- the friendly Cave Bar owners already mentioned
- the chef at the hotel who actually drove down to Petra to find me after I left my ticket in the hotel restaurant accidentally
- our Bedouin donkey instructor who said he gave us a good rate because we looked Arab and made sure Saba's young donkey didnt go over the cliff edge,
- and anyone else I've forgotten.

And of course, many thanks go to my wonderful travelling companion, Miss Saba Imtiaz, who deserves all the glory and homage for being so incredibly chilled (sometimes too much so, see part about sleeping in), entertaining (especially when freaking out on her donkey and stepping onto a mattrass covering a dug out hole on top of a mountain and falling through it), adept at conversation (be it random or structured) and super cool. Love ya Saba.



Still more thoughts to get down about Jordan so insha'allah, soon. :)

Jordan Part 1 - Amman عمان

Despite Tariq Ali's repeated overtures that it is nothing more than an American-Israeli protectorate (which in the political sense of the word, does have some merit) Jordan is a fantastic country.

I was kidding when I thought I could fit this stuff into one post so I've decided to do a number of Jordan-related posts, starting with this one.

For the most part, I was wandering (and often cabbing through) the wonderful streets of Amman, Jordan's capital, which apparently has 2 million inhabitants but it feels like a hell of a lot more when walking through nus-il-Balad (downtown).


While Amman isn't the most beautiful city in terms of architecture or infrastructure (parts of it are decidedly run down and still show traces of Black September, the Palestinian insurrection, battle and eventual expulsion). But it shows the beauty of life, the city feels much more alive than Manama, possibly because it's far more congested, people are more poor and therefore don't all drive, so people are actually constatly out on the streets enjoying each other's company.

The area of Jebel Amman where I spent most of my time (because I was staying there) is particularly cool because it is a hill (ie. Jebel) and although a tough climb at times, has many excellent random views and places to chill overlooking the city.


A lot of my time in Amman was spent frequenting a couple of coffee shops, namely a place called Danesi and a place called Books@Cafe. I prefer the former but the latter had faster wireless, free coffee refills and friendly staff. Their food, however, was disgusting to put it mildly, and their patronage was comprised of Amman's gay community (who annoyed me with flirtatious bluetooth messages) and annoying expats ("Jordan is like so whatever"). They also did, however, have a very cool rooftop courtyard with amazing views of Amman... and did I mention the wireless?

Apart from this cafe, I also managed to go to a cool bar where I had some reasonably decent Spanish wine. Mecca Mall (whose name I disagree with, dont think the Holy City should be associated with such materialistic pursuits) which was pretty crap in terms of what was on offer fashion-wise but DID have a fantastic bookshop. Great places downtown like: Hashem, the eatery that even the King frequented once, which has great hummous and ta'miyah but average fuul; al-Rashid ecotourism coffee shop, perched on a nice balcony above the Downtown hustle and bustle, smoking an 'argileh', drinking some coffee and playing a game of chess is a good way to pass the time - even if the shisha itself was fairly average. The other place I miss is Lebanese Pastries which was this awesome lebanese takeaway outside Dewar Thani (2nd circle), near the girls' place, which had simply amazing lebanese sandwiches... God I'd kill for one right now. And also Reem Shawarma which was also next to Dewar Thani, I have never had to wait in a line of 50 people for a shawarma before but, I must admit, it was a pretty damn good shawarma.

All in all, Amman is now one of my favourite cities. Thanks to its wonderfully friendly and hospitable people here are my key Amman people-related experiences :

- Various family and amman-related conversations with taxi drivers, all seemingly named Ahmed.
- Ahmed pulling over to buy me coffee on the way to the airport
- Busdriver offering me coffee while I was waiting for his bus to depart... by giving me the coffee he just bought for himself. I went and bought him another though and had...
- Interesting political conversation with Palestinian coffee maker ("we are all Arab").
- Walking through downtown Amman and marvelling at how alive the streets feel after the sleepyness of Manama
- Walking through the windy backstreets of Jebel Amman and stopping every 10 mins to admire the fantastic view that coincides with a very nice looking place to sit.
- Exploring Amman from a cab window, cigarrette and coffee in hand as the wind slaps your face.
- Sitting on Jebel Amman and looking down on the beehive of activity below as the call to prayer rings out over the city

I'll probably update with more later, peace :)

New York City

And onto the second city I visited in July - New York City.

Basically, I had mixed feelings about this city. I'd heard Lyna raving about it for weeks before she left Bahrain so I was looking forward to something special or extraordinary. It was special in many ways. I mean the city is just huge, Manhattan is just a crazy cage full of people running everywhere, it's like they're on those exercise wheels seriously and constantly pepped up on something. The bustle of it was great, I love bustling cities, but the people were quite annoying. They kept walking around yelling randomly or at each other, seemingly unable to have a conversation at a reasonable volume. And everyone had that famous New York "fuck off" attitude. Which is great really, it's great to love yourself and your city but it's time to wake up and smell the roses. NYC is not what it once was, the world is full of cities that rival it in almost everything. Multiculturalism, size, food, drinks, partying, shopping, culture, etc. You name it there's a better city for it - and there's better cities with combinations of them too...

So my lasting picture of NYC was of an big, interesting, bustling city full of people who are proud to be marginally deluded assholes (note: this is a generalisation, and like all generalisation, doesn't apply to everyone).

Although I'm not usually much of a sight-seeing tourist, I did make an effort to see some of the 'sights'.



I checked out Times Square in all its glory and had a Jambo Juice while watching life go by.


Wall St was interesting too. Complete with the big 'fuck off' American flag posted up all over this building and the shitloads of security personnel, cops and God-knows-who-else to go with protecting the bastard. Is there a bigger monument to Capitalist greed than this building? Smack in the middle of Wall St with a massive American flag on it? A big 'fuck you' to the have-nots of the world? I can understand why they have security all over it.

Anyway I decided it would be a good idea to have Starbucks and a bagel on Wall St to feel really part of the New York capitalist scene... and it was interesting to note that people in suits everywhere are exactly the same. I'm sure they have personalities they leave at home but once the suit comes on, the personality hides somewhere while they talk about stock tips, their boss and why Larry hit on them at the office party last weekend... BORING.


i saw the chick with the torch in her hand for free on the passing Staten Island ferry. WoOt.


The best of the 'sights' though was this place, the UNHQ in New York, a place I would love to work one day and a kind of inspiring one. There really isn't much to see inside, apart from a few display pieces in the lobby, a giftshop, a bookshop, a post office (from which you can send UN mail), a crappy cafe and thats about it. It was still enjoyable to just sit there and soak it up for a while... the UN atmosphere, as cheesy as it sounds...


...it was cool to hang out with these guys for at least a few hours :D

So not to forget the purpose of my trip was for a meeting at the AIESEC US office. And an interesting meeting it was.


It's a pretty colourful office. I think that green chest of drawers with the flowers on top of it is a particularly nice touch.


And then onto this sushi restaurant on Paul's recommendation where I actually had decent sashimi for the first time since leaving Australia... oh man I miss Sydney fish markets.

But finally, as usual for me, it's the little places to chill that really count on any trip and, just like that cafe in Frankfurt in my last post, I found an NYC cafe to call my home/office too.

-aroma- cafe, as it was called, had decent coffee (for new york), free wifi, great (albeit pricey) sandwiches and a relaxed student atmosphere. I think I was there 3 times out of the 5-6 days I was in New York. Loved it.

Frankfurt

Instead of the customary after-IC-euphoria-posting I think I'd rather catch up on some reflections and favourite pictures from two other cities I visited in July - starting with Frankfurt. A place I stopped over at on my way to NYC for a meeting, and then again on the way back.


My brief but eventful journey started on one of these trains. The trip from the airport into Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof (main train station) cost me E$3.50 each way which is pretty damn expensive for a 15 minute ride but these trains were worth it. They were like long-distance trains, super fast, super smooth, super comfortable with reclining seats, tray tables and magazines.


The train station itself is very cool looking and reminded me a lot of Flinders St station in Melbourne - in terms of looks, positioning in the city, and the clock thing...


One thing I love about Frankfurt is the juxtaposition of really cool shiny skyscraper glass towers like this one...


... with beautiful European-style cobblestoned streets, parks, benches and many places to relax and watch the world go by.


In addition, Frankfurt has a very interesting historic precinct (that was flooded with tourists of course) which includes this very German-style looking building with the roofs that look like steps.


My favourite part of my day in Frankfurt (thats the first day I mean, on the way to NYC, I didn't take any pictures on the second) would have to be the time I spent at this little cafe on their Fressgasse (a street affectionally nicknamed so, after the amount of eating one can do on it). Sipping an espresso and reading Kafka in the morning made me feel very European... and the espresso was the best one I'd had since leaving Melbourne a month before... I returned to the cafe on my second day in Frankfurt (which was on the way back to Bahrain from NYC) and partook in some more coffee and reading...

Generally it was really nice to be able to walk around the city freely, look at things and bask in the German-ness of it all. There is something about travelling alone with no agenda in particular that makes you feel like you have the world at your feet...

Frankfurt, NYC + Bad Air Travel

I feel an update post on what's been happening in Bahrain is in order but first I wanna post about some stuff that's been on my mind of late. So I found out on Wednesday night that 24 hours later I was meant to be on a plane to NYC, cool. Took Lufthansa Bahrain - Frankfurt and sat next to this great guy from Minsk (near my hometown) who was working for Citigroup in NYC and was on a business trip to Bahrain. He told me some interesting stuff, told me to visit Brighton Beach in NYC, the Russian area, and that I could get by there without speaking a word of English... so excited about that. He also told me he was really scared of going to Bahrain initially for the business trip and tried to get out of it. It's amazing, the level of ignorance that exists in the world, as Bahrain is surely one of the safest countries ever and, when compared to NYC, is basically like a church safety-wise. He was Assistant VP of Emerging Markets for Citigroup, which sounds like a really cool job! We spent time complaining about how bad Lufthansa was...

All my days of flying Asian airlines had not prepared me for the air travel world outside. Lufthansa had no personal TVs, no free eye masks, no free toothbrushes, pretty bad food and NO LEGROOM AT ALL (unlike Gulf Air which had all those things and heaps of legroom, by the way, so what if it's going broke). Lufthansa did, however, have Recaro seats... nice.

My 6 hour stopover in Frankfurt was eventful. Thank you Australian passport, I got to go and hang out in Frankfurt, check the place, snap heaps of photos and all that... and still get back to the airport in due time to get my connecting flight. Poor Sahar with the Bahraini passport had to stay in the airport due to lack of visa. Boohoo. Frankfurt is a hell of a town. Plenty of nice gleaming skyscrapers, great period architecture that is unique to Deutchland, nice cafes (had a GREAT coffee there), cobblestoned streets and Turkish people (very friendly too). Had a great chillout with an espresso and my book there, had a great sandwich in the airport and the best part, spent all morning speaking nothing but German... great practice :D

I thought it couldn't get worse after Lufthansa but it did. United Airlines was terrible. Flew 7+ hours from Frankfurt to DC on of their OLD jumbos which rattled and shook. Not only did it not have personal TVs but it only had one projector which I couldn't even see (at least Lufthansa had a few TVs in the cabin). The food was even worse, the legroom was comparably bad, the plane sat on the runway at Frankfurt for an hour while we sweated it out because the plane had... get this... NO CLIMATE CONTROL. Just those little AC vents in the ceiling. Great. The staff were friendly and helpful though, can't fault their service, just shitty at everything else. Sat next to a nice old lady who was going to miss her connection to Tampa, Florida and probably have to stay overnight in DC, damn. I made my connection - just - because it was delayed. Phew. DC to NY was good, a small Brasillian jet, kinda like the domestic flights on Virgin Blue back home.

My general first impressions of NYC are just the same as off the TV. The place is big, brash, covered in skyscrapers and full of people with swagger. New Yorkers swagger around because they think their city is the best in the world. They talk to absolutely anyone and are very "confident" (see also, 'aggresive') in their style. Good people though, happy to help... just don't pussyfoot around in NYC or you'll get stepped on. There's heaps of stuff to do here. Great (and cheap, thankyou weak USD) fashion, good bookstores, cafes, bars... yet to see the big sights though - tomorrow. Spent the day walking around Soho. Aiming to do more touristy stuff + chilling tomorrow.

Chilling in a bar called "Underground" near my hotel with a beer right now, it has free wireless. I'm staying on the Upper West Side, 102nd + Broadway... word. Starting meetings on Monday.

One thing I've realised today, as I've been walking around NYC with all the peple, cars and buildings everywhere, with all the smells of food and dirty things, with all the swagger and all the multiculturalism, with the myriad of things to do... I miss Bahrain. Like Lyna said, sometimes you know you have a second home...