taxis – Ryan.Brinkworth.id.au

Dubai Jazz Festival, etc

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Some pix from Dubai Jazz Fest 09 - click for more

Last night I went off to the Skywards Dubai International Jazz Festival in Media City to see John Legend – among other acts. I love good music, especially live. And the international artists they’ve brought to the festival are top-notch, I mean UK’s James Blunt played the night before. The night was wonderful, and certainly worth the trials and tribulations of getting there and back.

Before I went out, I actually got a guy to clean our apartment. I thought I would never get someone else to do this, but Sathi the cleaner we have in the building is such a nice and eager guy, I would hate to preclude him some money. We had discussed it for a few weeks now, but our schedules never seemed to match. Finally after work he grabbed me and asked if he could do it now. I didn’t have to get to the festival til after 6pm, so I figured there was time and agreed. But I couldn’t help myself. After I saw him on ground floor where he had to pick up his equipment, I raced up to the apartment and cleaned it myself. I realise it mostly defeats the purpose, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable having someone else clean my place.

Dubai’s Media City is a fair hike from Deira where I’m staying, so I was forced to catch a taxi. Thursday nights are not a good night for taxis as everyone is going out. I eventually flagged one down, but he did the dodgy open the window a little bit to find out where I wanted to go before agreeing to take me anywhere. It’s not appropriate, but there’s little you can do about it. He ummed and aahed for a while, and made a couple of phone calls to confirm if he had time. He had existing plans with a friend of his. Instead of scrapping the plans he had with his friend, he decided to take me for the trip and drop me at the concert. My awareness of directions have gotten to the point where I know when I’m going the totally wrong way. I raised it with him, and had some heated words about me paying while he picks up his mate. He eventually backed down, and gave me a straight fare. All the while, trying to be jovial about where I’m from, and if I like cricket,etc.

I said I had no issues with a small bypass, if I don’t pay for it, and if it doesn’t take too long. Well picking up his mate did take too long, and just as I was about to jump ship, he said he could get me there straight away so we then flew down Sheikh Zayed Road like a lightning bolt. Taking a few rapid detours on the way whenever the road was built-up. I’m certain the guy was insane, but he eventually got me there on time. A little shaken, but on time.

I got settled in to watch the first act, Kelly Dickson. She was very good. As she was finishing I thought it was probably a good time to get a bite to eat before people start flooding in for the main acts.

The process was you had to buy books of 10 coupons for 50 AEDs. I bought a lebanese kebab with way too much tahini sauce for 15 AED, and I figured since it was the end of the working week – and the end of my first month here – I should celebrate with a Heinekin. One stubby in a plastic cup cleaned the rest of my coupons, 35 AED ($15 AUD!). I still think it’s interesting how much alcohol here is, compared to, well, food. But it really doesn’t seem to stop people.

In a word, the rest of the show was fantastic. All acts were very impressive. I don’t know who my favourite was. Jonathan Butler was very special – particularly with the ovation he got from the South African beauties dancing next to me. Dave Koz certainly rocked, and John Legend was superb. Legend performing Green Light (with Andre 3000 on tape) was probably the most entertaining song I’ve seen performed. It wasn’t surprising to see jon his web site how much philanthropy and charity work he does.

The show came to a close, after one encore of John playing a song by himself on piano. Then at 12:15am it was time to try my luck at getting home. I followed the early leavers to what I hoped was a taxi area. Nope. It was helter skelter. In fact I witnessed half an incident when a local guy started walking aggressively and swearing at an English woman before her husband chimed in threatening to call the police, at this he didn’t immediately stop which was a worry. I kept walking.

I waited in a couple more lines that came to nothing. Then walked a fair distance more, and just when I thought it was hopeless and maybe I should find a backpackers to stay the night, a driver in a Lexus asked where I was going. Invariably these are private limo services for companies. We have them for Emirates, but the drivers I contacted were no where near Media City at the time. Anyway the driver mentioned it would take him a long time to get out of Deira and back. I realise I was not coming from a position of power at all, and knew there were hundreds, if not more people desperately wanting a ride, so I agreed. The price was exactly double what the other guy charged to get me the same distance earlier in the night. But this was more comfortable, and with greater chance of getting to my destination without crashing.

It was certainly all worth it. I’ll certainly be there again next year.

Terry Fox Run – 2009

Reading Time: 6 minutes

Some of my pix from the Terry Fox Run - Abu Dhabi — Some of my pix from the Terry Fox Run & Abu Dhabi – click for more.

This morning I decided to participate in the 14^th Annual Terry Fox Run in Abu Dhabi. To get to Abu Dhabi around 8am for registration meant I had to catch a 6:20am bus from Bur Dubai. Some people warned me against catching buses, but although it was quite smelly and cramped, it got me there in time. I think the main problem with my seat was that I was one of the last to board the bus, so the only seats left were the dodgy ones above the back wheel. Just like I found on the abras, they don’t leave until it’s full. Luckily it never takes long on either to get packed. To get to Abu Dhabi was around 2 hours each way. And to go there and back cost a mere 35 AEDs – about $14 AUD. You can’t complain at those sort of prices. Although taxis are relatively cheap here, I’m scared to think how much they’d charge to cross an emirate, and go the same distance.

I wasn’t able to find an Abu Dhabi map the night before when I hatched the plan. So as I didn’t know where the Sheraton was from the bus station, I hailed a taxi. I have previously written how much better things in Abu Dhabi are. An exception to this, are their taxis. The majority of the fleet are either the Nissan Sunny – which in Australia we know as a Pulsar – or a Toyota Corolla. Another concern I had with my taxi was that there were no seat belts. Fortunately the driver seemed to drive much safer than his Dubai counterparts.

They didn’t have the facilities I’ve come to expect at this kind of event, such as portaloos. And as I went there on my own, I had a bag with a few things and there was no where to leave your belongings. Unfortunately the nearby Sheraton said they don’t have these kind of facilities, but I slipped the guy at the desk a 50 and he happily looked after it in one of his cupboards. As long as I didn’t tell anyone.

After I registered, there was still plenty of time before the 10am start. So I searched out a small supermarket which was hidden away, and bought a local newspaper, and a make-shift breakfast of a chocolate donut, a can of Red Bull, and a water bottle. Nearby there was a tall building being constructed, where they were trying to lift in and install a massive generator. So I plonked myself down in a chair there where I could view the activity. The shopkeeper came out to join me. It seems he was surprised to see an out-of-towner. He asked where I was from, what Australia was like, where I was living over here, and what I was doing here. He we such a nice, friendly and genuine guy I gave him one of the Terry Fox shirts I bought. I only had a big denomination note with me when I registered, so I felt bad clearing out their change so I bought two shirts which made it slightly easier for them. It wasn’t until that night when I saw my reflection in the lift that I realised it says 2008. I’m not sure if I bought some old stock they were clearing out – or was the run meant to have happened last year.

After I finished the paper, two guys wearing overalls came up to me and started talking Arabic. I had no idea what they were trying to say, and they didn’t understand any English. But going by their dodgy charades I think it was their job to wash the cars in the parking lot. I thought that maybe they thought I was impinging on their turf by sitting where I was. Not sure, but they seemed friendly enough at the end, after initially looking a little perplexed.

Anyway, when I went back to the race area there was around half an hour to go. By this time, the place was buzzing with people. I had a chat with some people from Aussies Abroad – Abu Dhabi in matching yellow shirts that grabbed your attention. Although they don’t have a chapter in Dubai, they suggested keeping in touch and keeping an eye on the events on their web site. They’re certainly a well-organised group.

One of the crown princes was also in attendance as a dignatory. He walked extremely close-by, and it looked to me like he was not a big fan of all the attention. The attention was a bit like a pop star, or movie star. I have Googled for him, but have found no information. His name was Chakram, or something similar, and he was one of the sons of the Abu Dhabi ruler.

There were some really stirring speeches before the run from people who had survived cancer, including Canadian paralympian, Jeffrey Adams. The Canadian Ambassador in the UAE gave a nice history of the Terry Fox legend, and explained how much the event meant to Canadians, and how encouraging it was to see so many people out to support the work of one of their national heroes.

Of all the places where the Terry Fox Run occurs around the world, Abu Dhabi is the second largest. The only bigger one is in Terry’s home country of Canada.

To get a full description of the event, and learn about Terry Fox you should go to the official site, but I’ll just say it was very emotional to hear the accounts, and to be part of an event to support his legacy.

took the camera with me on the run, and stopped to take pictures whenever I spotted an interesting site. I haven’t been running properly for over six months now. Thankfully there were many things to take pictures of to punctuate the run. It wasn’t until around the half way mark – when I had snapped most of the land marks – that I started to break a sweat.

It was a picture perfect day in terms of weather. One of the buildings had a temperature display where I saw that it was a pleasant 22 degrees. Everyone keeps telling me it’s just going to get hotter from now on, which is a bit of a worry. Particularly since I forecast my long training runs for my next marathon will fall in the middle of Summer. Depending on who you talk to, and which web sites you read, it either doesn’t get below 25, 30, 35, or 45 in the hottest months. I’m hoping it’s the 25 – but I don’t think so. On the impartiality of the media, I have heard there’s an edict that when the temperature is recorded as being over 50 on any given day, people don’t need to go to walk. However, the newspapers have never actually reported it being over 50, despite most thinking it certainly has been.

When I finished the run, I visited my new mate at the Sheraton who told me I made his day, which was a nice end to the event. I found my way back to the bus station by following the general direction I remembered from the taxi ride, and looking out for a street numbered 4 which made things simple. It doesn’t make it easy at other times, when there are several streets with the same number.

I took a few pictures on the way back to the bus station. Including one picture of a random stranger. I was snapping a mosque between two high rise buildings that caught my eye, when he was set to pass me. But instead, he stopped and stood in front of me, and motioned for me to take the picture where he beamed a nice large smile.

For after the run, I actually packed a towel, change of clothes, and a can of deodorant (shower in a can). But I decided to not use any of these to get some revenge on the other bus passengers for the odours I had to endure on the trip to Abu Dhabi. I don’t think I made any impact though. I think it all just blended in. At least I had a more spacious seat. I read my book until I fell asleep, just like on the first trip. I made sure I fell asleep with a tight grasp on my bag which contained my valuables. Just in case.

After I got off the bus back to the Bur Dubai bus station, I caught an abra for the first time. These are the motorised boats that cross the creek. It’s an interesting experience. Everyone who comes to Dubai should try. I expected a normal boat ride, with the sounds of the sea. There were plenty of seagulls flying about. But nope. Just like their roads, there were horns going off every which way. And the drivers of the boats, pointing and motioning with their hands in quite a violent manner to each other.

That got me within 10 – 15 minutes from my apartment. So I walked back, to have a quick shower, a skype with the wife and kids, then head off to a friend’s place for a lamb roast dinner with other expats. It was absolutely beautiful! Plus I got a doggie bag.

It was quite a wonderful day. I look forward to doing the Terry Fox Run again next year. Although, I may drive there next time.

Plenty of variety

Reading Time: 2 minutes

In the morning I had to get a few groceries from the local shop. The large shop I go to more often has a Carrefour – the French hypermarket, which is largest chain in the world. Walmart is only bigger in terms of revenue.

Carrefore is definitely a superior shop for variety to the ones close-by, but it takes over 20 minutes to walk, so when I do shop there, I try not to carry too much. I made that mistake a few weeks back. They have a fully-organised taxi waiting room, with guards making sure people take it in turns, however there is not nearly enough taxis for the amount of people needing them. Most of the time there’s a bit of a wait, but on the day I bought my laptop, plus 3 or 4 bulky bags of things for the apartment it just had to be the night that the taxi line had a 40 – 50 metre line-up.

Rather than wait around, and the pain of having to keep moving my bags up as the line shortened I decided to go for it, and walk all the way. By the time I reached home I think my arms were a foot or two longer.

I’ve learned my lesson, and now just get a few groceries, more often. Or I just get what I absolutely have to from the big shops, and get other things from the gritty supermarkets nearby. Actually, it’s not that bad.

All shops here have so many different things from back home. Not a lot of pig product, obviously. But the fruit juices are a highlight. I’ve tried quite a few different varieties which I’m not used to seeing in Australia. My favourite is kiwi fruit juice, closely followed by strawberry juice. Honeydew mellon is OK, but I’ve learned to avoid anything with coconut or sugar cane. What was I thinking. Ewww.

I thought Irish Village would be, well, a village

Reading Time: 4 minutes

I survived my second week in the job, and joined a few Aussies at Irish Village for more than a few pints of Guinness. Until then I have been on a real health kick, and avoiding alcohol.

The Irish Village is a nice pub, in a semi-secluded spot. It’s near a couple of our offices, and the tennis courts where the Barclays Dubai Tennis Championships will be played later this month.

At the pub there was yet another case of, it’s a small world afterall. Initially there was just four of us at the pub, and my boss mentioned to one of the other guys, I should tell you, Ryan’s wife is from Tasmania. I thought this was a bit abstract, but the guy made a bit of a joke, so I figured he may have been to Tasmania, or something. But no! It turns out he’s from Ulverstone – the same town as my wife’s family. A town of less than 10,000 people. Now that’s getting a little freaky.

Ulverstone seems like one of those places though, like Toowoomba. If you’re having a chat with a certain number of Australians, you’re more than likely to find someone with a connection to the place. I remember Elle was working in a Brisbane bar a number of years ago, where she happened to work alongside someone also from Ulverstone – whom she had never met before. What are the chances.

But anyway, The Irish Village was a nice place. When I was in Australia considering whether to take the job or not, I did a fair bit of Google-ing to suss the country out. One of my questions was whether they had anywhere that cooks some decent fish & chips. There seemed to be more than a couple of favourable references to the fish & chips at Irish Village.

It was funny how no matter what I searched for – no matter how obscure – there was always more than one web forum, or site where someone had asked the question previously. I can’t think of all the questions now off the top of my head, but there were plenty of things like whether they had baby formula, childhood panadol, and things of that nature.

Google also helped me identify the sex of a person when I couldn’t discern it from the Indian, or Arabic name. All you do is an image search on the name, and each and every time it displays dozens of images of people by that name. Presto.

Earlier in the day I did a fair bit of running around, finalising the joining stuff, such as attesting my marriage certificate. I caught a taxi from the Consulate to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the guy was an absolute madman. Everyone on the roads here are obviously a bit crazy, but this guy took it to a whole new level. He actually had great skill with the way he could drive up to 100km/hr within 10 cm from the car in front, and stop suddenly at the lights. I was wondering why he was in so much of a hurry, and the only thing I could come up with was he going that fast to give him more time to watch himself in the rear vision mirros as he brushed his hands through his thick head of hair, and polish and straighten his shiny Ray Bans sunglasses. It was a bit compulsive. But he wasn’t just the king of speeding, he was also quite an expert at shepherding the other cars out of the lanes around him, and his use of the horn was quite special also.

In Dubai, people use their horns more than anywhere else I know. I would say on any built-up stretch of road, you’d hear a horn go off every 3 – 4 seconds. Most of the time, there are multiple horns going at once. There seems to be a number of contexts for people’s horning, and more than a few meanings attributed to it. Yes, the humble car horn is a multi-faceted communication tool.

From what I’ve seen, people use their horns to say:

look out
hurry up
slow down
don’t cross there
hey, I’m driving here
LOOK OUT!
are you f-in crazy?
BOO!
you’re a mere pedestrian, don’t tempt me
this is your last warning. Grrrr; and
hey, it’s been quiet for three seconds – my turn.

The road rage statistics are actually quite low – if you believe the newspaper reports (which some have told me I shouldn’t do!)

We drove past some of the frantic construction of the Metro (Dubai’s first train system – expected to be running in Sept this yr). A sign on their wall caught my eye, “Know safety, no pain. No safety, Know Pain”. I thought this was quite insightful. Unfortunately it seems not everyone across the country has the same thinking. I was walking on a footpath, and at random intervals there were large and sudden drop-offs at least three feet in depth. I’d hate to be walking past there at night.

The night ended up going back to a birthday party of one of the expat gang. It was a pizza and trivia night party, where they used the Play Station 3 Buzz game. I was initially cynical, but it was extremely entertaining! Particularly when the teams were split into guys and girls, and the guys would only take points from the girls – to ensure their demise.

Car based trivia

Reading Time: < 1 minute

My four year old was driving with me on an errand when he spotted a taxi driving along beside us. He proudly explained and demonstrated how you get a taxi driver’s attention by waving your hand.

I then asked, and what do cricket umpires do with their arms when the batsment hits the ball into the fence. He triumphantly did the boundary motions – waving his arm from left to right, and back.

He then had another cricket question for me, “What do you do at the cricket when the police take away your beach ball?” He got it in one, “BOOOOOO!”

We were impressed again in a later trip that same day. Despite the roundabout being 100 metres in front of us, he was able to spot an Audi just like the matchbox car I bought for him the night before. Of course it wasn’t exactly the same. He was able to tell us it was a different colour, and it was bigger.