We’ve had quite a hectic weekend.
Thursday night after work I went out with colleagues to Irish Village. In the morning Elle, Myles and I had already decided to have dinner somewhere so I organised a driver to bring them along also. The Village is very child-friendly (until 8:30pm – at which time they must leave). They do great steaks! The beer is nice also, but at the equivalent of $15 AUD a pint they’re not as appealing as they could be.
A family from our apartment came along with their son who Myles got on famously with. The two were playing the entire night.
They were within eyesight, but some distance from us. The parents took it in turns to walk by and make sure everything was going ok. Elle mentioned when she had finished her round, that a group of bikies had arrived next to the rocks where the two boys had made their fort. She had a bit of a giggle, as the boys mistakenly thought the bikies were police. I got up to have my turn when I saw the boys weren’t on their rock. They had actually moved into the circle of the bikies, and were getting photos taken with them. It turns out Dubai’s currently hosting their 4th annual Bike Week, and the gang that had become quite fond of the boys were the Ukrainian chapter of Hells Angels. All the bikie stereotypes were thrown out the window when you saw the bikies getting photos taken proudly posing with the kids. Must Google for their site to see if our kids got published. They boys also got some stickers which were happily accepted.
The next day we went for a drive to Hatta to have a picnic. With a few late cancellations, there were only seven of us so we all traveled in the one car. This turned out to be great because the place proved difficult to find with plenty of driving around in circles. And also, at the end of the day we were all extremely tired so it was good to divide the driving.
The trip was mostly on one of the major roads leaving Dubai. It’s always interesting, and scary at the same time, to see the appalling driving on display on any straight road with more than two lanes. Without fail you’re bound to see a Porsche Cayenne travelling over 150km/hr within a metre or two of the car in front of it. Also scary were the group of guys riding their four wheel motorbikes on the highway near a popular dune-bashing site. They were standing up on their bikes, with no helmets or any protective gear.
Getting there was an interesting experience of its own. We’re not entirely sure, but we think we passed over a national border with Oman. There were a couple of road blocks with an army presence equipped with automatic weapons.
Another interesting site to see were one town’s warning of the effects of driving while talking on your mobile phone. Around their round-about were four former cars that were absolutely smashed to smithereens in car crashes. Each had a sombre warning below of the dangers of talking on phones while driving. It was a coincidence that earlier in the day we saw a policeman driving his 4WD while talking on his mobile. I guess no one was going to arrest him.
We picked up a biryani in a small village in Hatta to take with us to the Hatta Pools. However the pools were almost impossible to find – particularly after we took directions from the locals. But the wait was definitely worth it. The place was quite a contradiction. We drove through a couple hundred kilometres of dry Dubai (and maybe Omanian) desert. Yet Hatta happened to have a series of beautiful rock pools tucked away amongst the sand. It was almost mirage-like to spot the many rock chasms all filled with extremely cool water. We found one in the shade which we sat at with our feet dangling in. It was amazing. We were all in agreement that it could only be improved with a nice chardonnay. While we were kicking back enjoying the moment, groups of locals kept arriving in their swimming gear. It seemed a popular place for them was near where we were slothing. The noise from them jumping in was hysterical. In fact, at times it sounded like they were having a little too much fun – if you catch my drift.
The temperature in Dubai is starting to climb so we didn’t stay at the pools for too long – much to the boy’s disappointment. The road blocks were still there, but this time rather than spotting that we were foreigners and letting us go, the soldier stopped us and asked for all our paperwork. Christine and I both had driver’s license and UAE gate card, but Elle’s passport is still with Immigration. The guy didn’t care too much about any of these though, but took an interest in Christine’s houseboy, Mani. Luckily Mani takes a photocopy of his passport, visa, and work permit wherever he goes. The soldier seemed OK with this, so we kept going. We had a big laugh as we left and Christine mentioned that Mani must have had the face of a terrorist. Mani giggled, but said it was because he was black.