Dubai is a city of records, firsts, bests, richest, biggest...-ests, etc. Once we determined we were going to visit Dubai, Scott immediately made it clear that the one thing he was most interested in see was the tallest building in the world, the Burj Khalifa.
This was taken during the cab ride there.
The Burj Khalifa was originally named the Burj Dubai, but it's completion coincided with the global financial crisis. Drowning in massive debt, and without the expected influx of tourism and prestige-rental dollars a huge bailout was sought from (the still quite oil rich) Abu Dhabi. In honor of that $10bn gesture the building was renamed the Burj Khalifa, after the president of the United Arab Emirates and emir of Abu Dhabi, Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahayan. It is literally so big you have ot have a special camera to be able to take an unobstructed picture of the whole thing in one frame. Believe me, I tried.
We scheduled our tour--you are advised to buy the tickets well in advance of your arrival as the tours fill up quickly--for 10:30 in the morning of our second day. Since it's such a landmark, and since we could see it from our hotel, we decided to just get in a cab and tell them where we wanted to go. Usually we would have printed out maps and directions, but all we brought with us this time was a printout of our ticket vouchers. Even so, we were running a few minutes late and I was worried that we might miss our tour. You can imagine how confused, and mildly panicked, I was when our cab pulled up in front of Dubai Mall, which looked to be about a block away from the Burj itself.
Our cabbie didn't speak much English, and I was not about to get out of the cab until I knew what was going on. He had a conversation with Scott which I couldn't hear very well, but he repeated our destination and insisted that we were to go into to mall. Still somewhat worried, we got out anyway and went inside. Fortunately for us there was an information desk immediately inside the door and the nice man in the uniform behind the counter politely assured us that we were in the right place. It turns out that you get to the Burj tour by taking the elevator down and walking a short distance underground.
Since we were running a little later than we wanted to--i.e. just enough time to check in, get our tickets, and make the tour--I was feeling tense when I saw all the people who were also waiting to take the tour. I shouldn't have worried, though. Even though there were so many people, the every aspect of the tour is well planned and efficient. Everything was slickly polished and there was a definitely hum and excitement in the air. I couldn't help walking a little too quickly past all of the wonderful information plaques on the hallways leading to the elevators. I wanted to capture it all, but with so many people anxious to get to the top it would have been impossible to linger long enough soak it all in without causing an international incident.
The design of the building itself it a work of art. The foot print of the building is a triquetra, and this motif is repeated over and over again throughout the building. On the walls, etched in the glass room dividers, in the tile on the floors, in the logos on the brochures, etc. Seeing it everywhere, with some subtle variations in pattern and repetition, is not too hard on the eyes, though. It's usually subtly included in the already tasteful design of the building so you don't at all feel like you are being beaten over the head with it. Instead it is an elegant addition adding continuity (and branding *wink*) to an already impressively arranged space.
The Burj Khalifa is not only the world's tallest building, but also boasts the world's fastest elevator, traveling at 64 km/h (40 mph) or 18 m/s (59 ft/s). The elevator really is incredibly fast, and you see digital displays on the wall for the floor numbers as you pass them, as well as various promotional adverts, but it is packed so full of people you can barely see them. It would doubtless have more impact if it had glass walls à la the amazing wonkavator, but it was at least well air-conditioned and the ride was short enough that the shoulder to shoulder discomfort was bearable.
When you reach the end of the ride, the elevator opens onto the observation deck on floor 124. Though it's called the "At the Top Experience," it really isn't the top of the building. It's still very, very high though. Also, it isn't really a tour, it's just a bunch of neat things to look at on your way to and from the observation deck. The observation deck goes all the way around the building with floor to ceiling windows. There is plenty of space so that people are free to linger as longer as they like at the top, but it's small enough that after about 20 minutes you've really seen everything you came to see and egress occurs organically and comfortably. Have I mentioned how much I really like good planning?
We were warned on the bottom that it was a hazy day. I can only imagine what the view must be like when it is a clear day.
Looking UP from floor 124!
Scott joked that he couldn't "believe they don't clean these windows...GAH!" Uh, yeah, I'd get right on that, too. Hundred floors up. Just sayin'...
Yep, that's my boy. Brings a comic book!
I found out later Miles and Scott were pretending to be evil overlords using the mounted space cannons, cleverly disguised as digital viewing stations, to wreak havoc upon the hapless citizens and tourists below.
That round thing down there is the main entrance/rotunda to the very huge Dubai Mall, where our cab driver dropped us off.
There is a small gift shop at the top that sells bag, t-shirts, postcards, etc. I bought a shirt for my son, and would probably have picked up more stuff as souvenirs (I really really wanted to get a t-shirt for my husband too), but they just didn't have that much that interested me. I usually look for fridge magnets, coffee cups, t-shirts, pencils or pens, or postcards. The coffee cups were the tall thin kind. I prefer the more substantial ones. Any coffee cup that enters my home has to look like it will survive the inevitable early morning tumble it will take as I struggle to get it filled with warm, life-giving java before I'm fully conscious.
They DID have these gold foil-covered chocolate camels, though. If I had thought for one minute it would have survived the shipping ordeal I would have gotten one to send to my mother. I think she would have gotten a good chuckle out of it, but I could only picture her puzzled expression as she peered through the clear plastic box at the gold and brown lump that would have arrived in the mail some weeks down the line. So--I settled for a photo. This one's for you, Mom!
After the getting our fill of the observation deck, we headed back down to have lunch in the amazing Dubai Mall. There is a much larger gift store at the bottom, for those who might be interested, but we bypassed it pretty quickly and went straight to the beautiful sculpture of the building they had on display.
Huge, slick, shiny, full of designer names and gourmet chocolate stores...it was really all too much for me. I'm sure we didn't even get to see half of it, but we finally found a place to have lunch which was really nice a refreshing. It was called Sumo Salad and it was really, really great. I heartily recommend it if you are lucky enough to have one nearby. And if you don't, consider opening a franchise. It's that good! It was also nice to rest for a while. Before too long, we were ready to get back to the business of exploring the mall. There was really too much to see.
We did wander through enough, though, that we found our way to the the Dubai Mall Aquarium & Underwater Zoo which also boasts the Guinness Book of World Record's...uhm, record...for the world's largest acrylic panel. We got the full tour of the Aquarium with the glass bottom boat ride, trip through the "underwater zoo," and a voucher for the gift shop.
The boat rides are scheduled in in 30 minute increments, and we were there early enough that we didn't have to wait too long. While we were wending our way through the "creepy crawlies" section of the underwater zoo, we were offered an opportunity for Miles to sit with a constrictor and have his photo made. Scott had a severe allergic reaction to the tourist dollar trap and had to walk away for a few moments to get his blood pressure back down, but since Miles was game I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass us by! Was it gimmicky and over-priced? Absolutely. Was it worth it? I'll let you be the judge for now, and I will get out the pictures again to show Miles a couple of years from now. And then I'll get them out again to show my grand kids when they are 10 years old and ask them how they feel about it. *wink*
Turns out the "free" voucher for the gift shop was just one AED (United Arab Emirates Dirham) more than a t-shirt for my husband cost, SO I got to buy him a souvenir shirt like I wanted without any more cash flowing into the Aquarium's coffers.
Incidentally, I am not poking fun at my husband over the money issue. The whole trip was well under budget, so it wasn't that we were spending too much, he was just upset on principle. I think getting upset over principles is a good thing. I especially admire it in my loved ones. What I might be poking a little bit of fun at is how he knows what to expect from these trips and he still gets mad anyway. Just like I get mad at dangerous drivers. It's the way of things. *grin*
When we finally exited the Aquarium we were all starting to get a little droopy so we wandered back into the central part of the mall to get some "hot beverages" as Dr. Sheldon Cooper would say. It just so happens that I got some killer souvenirs for my nieces and nephew at the exotic little shop across from where we had coffee, but they will just have to wait until the package arrives for the reveal.
From there we strolled back through the mall and decided to head outside toward the Dubai Mall Fountain. The thing is huge. In fact, there are two of them, but they are so big you can only see one of them at a time. Fortunately for us, when we were at the top of the Burj Khalifa, we just happened to get a shot looking down on the fountain that we got to watch. When we went out of the mall, we walked across a pedestrian bridge to find a shaded bench on the other side where we would sit and wait for the show.
The little black curlycue thing is actually the the pumps and pipes that drive the fountain in the video below. From this angle you can see to foot-bridge we crossed from the mall and the corner we were perched on for the show.
This video was taken March 6, 2012 at 5:45pm. If I recall correctly, we saw the earliest show and they occur every 45 minutes after that, but I'm not sure how late they run. You could probably check here, if you are curious though.
Though our spirits were much higher after such an enjoyable display, we were all definitely ready for dinner by the time the fountain show was over. Scott and I both wanted to take the opportunity to have a nice, quiet "grown up" meal in a sit down restaurant. Scott had done some looking around on that side of the bridge while we were waiting for the fountain to start so he had some idea of what was available. There was a lot to choose from, as in the rest of the mall, but we decided to try a place called the "Meat Co." It was expensive but pleasant and pretty much exactly what we were looking for. I was so tired I don't even remember what I ordered, but I do remember being embarrassed by the way some other American tourists were poking fun at our African waiter's name. I was livid about it, frankly, but I didn't want to embarrass Scott--or our very kind and professional waiter--any more than necessary.
Other than a cab ride home through the beautifully lit downtown Dubai, that was it for day two of Dubai. Day 3 was just an uneventful trip to the airport heading back to Kuwait, so that's all we have to report from Dubai!
As I have said before Dubai is a very pretty city, and seems to be well planned, especially for tourism. It is one of the favorite local travel destinations to be sure and we have heard from some of Scott's colleagues about something called a "desert safari" that was favorably reviewed. When we realized we were going to be in Dubai, we went ahead and booked a desert safari with via/orient tours. It was completely touristy, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
We were picked up from our hotel, the Movenpick Bur Dubai at around 3:30 in the afternoon my a man who introduced himself to us as "Gul" (rhymes with school). From there headed to downtown to Dubai to pick another pair of safari-goers, two Japanese ladies with almost no English, at their hotel. From there we immediately pointed the SUV out towards the desert. Did I mention it was the Arabian Desert? At first it looked like west Texas to me, but I guess all deserts look a little bit alike.
Incidentally, Mr. Gul, who informed us he was from Pakistan, was a very polite if somewhat taciturn man who said he had been with the tour agency for over 7 years. From the way he interacted with the tour goers from many different nationalities, it was obvious he had at least a rudimentary grasp of at least four languages and to this day he is the only Muslim individual that I can recall seeing actually stop what they are doing when the call to prayer is sounded. I saw him stop to pray twice during the 5 hours of our "safari." Interesting.
The Safari includes a "dune bashing" session, where they let the air out of the tires and do insane dune-running in fully loaded Toyota Land Cruisers. I asked the driver why they let the air out of the tires and he told me it prevents the tires from digging in. He explained that the softer the tires were, the more they spread out, like the soft feet of a camel, giving better purchase on the fine sand. I thought of the difference between a carpet and a tent pole . Funny how our minds tend to frame things in terms of our immediate setting, huh?
The minute we all started to unload from the vehicles, we saw a man in traditional desert attire swooping down to us on a 4-wheeler. As he got closer we saw that he was actually a falconer, and had his gorgeous bird with him. He saw how delighted I was with the falcon, and encouraged us to take many photos with his pet. Assuming it was part of the tour, like it is at Medieval Times, I did not hesitate to play the goofy tourist.
After we all had our photos he then began indicating that we needed to pay him. It was uncomfortable, since he didn't speak any English (or at least pretended not to) and we had to ask our tour safari guide, who seemed annoyed and embarrassed, to translate for us. It was also uncomfortable because my husband is allergic to touristy money traps, and became more than a little resentful. This is my husband, Scott, with the beautiful creature. By "beautiful creature" I am of course referring to the raptor. I mean the one in bird form.
We were given a brief interlude to stretch our legs, while the drivers let the air out of the tires and I managed to get some good pictures of our first moments in the desert. The moon was visible high over the sandy landscape and I just couldn't resist a photo of that, especially after my 10 year old son, Miles, pointed out to me in his best junior scientist voice that "this looks like the surface of Mars."
We passed some camels after we started moving again, heading deeper out into the dunes. I was glad to get a few shots of the camels, thinking they might even be wild, but then I realized most of them were hobbled.
At one point our driver pointed out some fruit-bearing vines along the ground that grew in scrubby clumps here and there, sprouting directly out of the sand. He indicated that the were a type of squash, but bitter, not sweet like you would find in the market. I was very surprised that any type of melon or squash would grow in the desert as I thought they required lots of water. The baseball sized greenish-yellow fruits mostly looked half-eaten, so I assumed the camels had been nibbling on them. I asked him if they were planted on purpose for the camels and he laughed and said no, they were wild.
Soon we were far enough away from the rendezvous site to begin the crazy desert stunt-driving portion of our evening. Our guide really did display a great deal of skill on those dunes. Even my husband, who is quite the driver himself as well as a formula one racing and rally racing fan, mentioned afterward that he was surprised at what the driver was able to get the car to do without it rolling over. As we crested some of the taller dunes, our driver would honk several times to alert anyone on the other side that we were coming over in a hurry. Rolling over isn't the only danger involved in "dune-bashing."
Everyone in the car was screaming like it was a roller-coaster ride. Everyone except the driver, and of course, my husband. Scott is not someone generally given to wild expressions of enthusiasm. Or any expressions of enthusiasm, actually. He did grin quite a bit, and the occasional heartfelt chuckle coming from the front passenger seat was more than enough to let me know he was having a good time.
After the stunt driving, we drove across the desert for about 10 minutes--how do these guys know where they are going when everything looks the same?--to visit a camel breeding farm. We were told that the farm is owned by a member of the royal family of Dubai, and that the camels are used for meat and racing. Coming from Texas as I do, and being an animal lover as well, I was a little put off by the idea of eating an animal that you'd ride. I think of beasts of burden more as reliable companions than a food source. It spoke to me of a cultural difference, reminded me of a basically different attitude toward life that I would like to discuss more later. It was also interesting to me that the racing camels were not only all female, but the ones we saw were all pregnant. And stinky.
After a few minutes at the farm, gazing through the tall hurricane fence at the pregnant camels as they clustered around the food trough, we loaded back into the SUVs and drove for about another 10 minutes. This time we followed some tire tracks, so there was at least some kind of trail to follow. It seemed like the longer we were in the desert, the faster our guide drove. I don't know if he was trying to show us a good time or was just ready to get the evening over with. At the time, I was more interested in holding on than asking questions.
After that short but, uhm...exhilarating...drive, we rolled to a stop at the top of a high, steep dune, maybe 40-60 feet high at an angle of 40-70 degrees depending on where you stood along the rim. looking down into a sort of broad valley about a football field across. Here Mr. Gul, our guide, told us that here we would "ride camels, have henna, sand board, smoke shisha, have dinner, and belly dancing." He told us meet him on the other side of the camp after the other activities were done and he would take us back to our hotel.
We clambered stiffly out of the SUV and maneuvered, with varying degrees of agility, down the dune-face. Off to our right were some folks from another tour already sand boarding down the steepest part of the dune. I had reserved judgement on that particular activity until I saw it up close. It sounded like fun when I was reading about it, but when I actually got there it looked more like the kiddie slide at the park. I decided to head straight for the camel ride!
When we were at the camel farm, I remarked to Scott that the camels looked smaller than I had imagined. I really thought they looked too small to ride. Scott said he had the opposite impression, and that he had been just thinking how tall they were.
Feeling self-conscious about my own size in relation to the size of the animals I was planning on riding on, I was nevertheless determined not to deprive myself of this experience. To ride a camel in the Arabian desert? Almost nothing could have kept me from it, not even my nagging sympathy for the poor beast who was destined to carry me. << That's me, with Miles in front of me, on a camel!!! In the desert!!! Ever see the SNL musical skit "I'm on a boat"? That's all I could think of "I'm on a camel!" (FYI-that's the "clean" link, should be OK for kids or the office.)
After we all had a chance to ride a camel for a good minute and a half, everyone meandered down to the camp. The buildings were made of palm leaves. The fronds had all been bent forward along the shaft, and from there the construction was much like what you would see with bamboo or thatch, with the lengths being lashed together with wire and twine. The entire camp was encircled with the same material.
As we entered, immediately on the right hemisphere of the circle, there were a series of stalls/tents/huts that offered various activities. The left hemisphere of the camp circle was ringed with smallish seating areas in their own semi-private enclosures. In the center of the camp circle was a fairly large performance area, maybe 20x30 feet, facing the area with a DJ booth behind it.
Miles and I both got henna tattoos. I have always wanted one but never gotten one, and the girl didn't speak much English so all we could agree on was the placement on my hand. The girl giving them didn't seem happy, and I found myself wondering about her background, and how she came to be doing this and whether or not it was by choice.
Distracted as I was by my musings I failed to realize that what she was putting on my hand, in semi-permanent stain, was a series of childish looking flowers with swirls and dots. She was half-way through with the design before I saw it coming together and realized how wrong it was for me. What I had wanted was something traditional and exotic looking. What I received was my own fault for allowing myself to be hurried into docile acceptance. It was obviously a "canned" pattern tailored for bland tourist's tastes. *Note to self: Make sure you insist on whatever time you need to make sure you negotiate clearly and get what it is you really want.*
I thanked her anyway and made room for Miles, who was thrilled to boyish self-importance with his new cobra tattoo. He was somewhat less thrilled when he realized he wouldn't be able to use his hand or wrist for 30 minutes, but he got over that pretty quickly when he saw the stage where the dancers would be. We took a quick tour around the camp, getting some soda's for Scott and I and a fresh squeezed orange juice for Miles, before heading over to the seating area to await the show.
On the floor of the seating enclosures there were coverings which looked like threadbare--and I mean completely threadbare--carpets. Imagine someone taking a really, really old carpet and pulling all the threads out of it, leaving just a few stragglers, then sewing a new border around the edge. Perhaps they were rejects from carpet manufacturing that had been re-purposed? I would like to think they had been recycled in some way.
Long, low tables were covered with rough brown cloths and various scarfs thrown on at angles, and the tables all had hard, rectangular cushions leaned against them for the attendees to sit on. Angling them against the table like that would prevent dust and sand from settling on/in them somewhat, I suppose. I piled a few of them up and sat back for a minute to just enjoy the scenery and feel the desert breeze as the sun set slowly around us.
As the sun started to set, a dancer can on stage. It looked like a young man in an Edwardian corset and full calf-length skirts and boots similar to a what a 19th century Russian Cossack might have worn. His boots were red and blue. By that I mean that each of his boots was split in half down the middle. Looking at them head-on, one side was blue and the other was red. He was carrying what looked like tambourines but it was hard to tell in the deepening gloam as twilight saturated the open space between the stage and our seats. As the music started, he started to spin. He kept his weight on one foot, and used the other to push himself around and around. The whole time he was dancing, all I ever saw on that boot was one color. As he spun around the color changed, but it was always so precisely placed that you never saw even a slight bit of the other color.
What? Whirling dervish? Aren't they in Turkey? I was confused but fascinated as he continued to spin around and around, at first performing tricks with his pie-plate thingies and then with his skirts.
At the end of his dance it was much darker outside. It was then that he turned on his skirt. Yes, turned it ON. There were lights sewn into the layers, and the different layers had different colors, and he did some very cool things with them. I thought I had been able to get a video of it, but I must have accidentally deleted it.
For those who are curious what it looked like, I found a very similar video on youtube:
One thing to keep in mind, though, is that the dancer we saw went on for at least 20 minutes. And didn't pass out, or even fall, or stumble. It was beyond impressive.
After the first dancer, the buffet was served. The advertisement for the safari called it "desert BBQ" but it was a mix of the regular food you find in this part of the world. Hummus, tabbouleh (though they said it wasn't tabbouleh when I asked, but it was a cold salad of parsley, Bulgar wheat, lemon juice, diced tomatoes and I just don't know what else that might be called) tandoori chicken and lamb chops, regular salad, a bland lentil curry for the Indians and the vegetarians and bismati rice, round unleavened bread, sliced steamed potatoes and for some strange reason those crappy, pre-frozen hamburger patties. I guess they must feel like they have to put out "burgers" for the Americans on the tour. It was not quite what I was expecting from a "desert BBQ", but we were all hungry and for the most part it was fresh and welcome.
After a short break for everyone to get some food in their bellies the music started again and the belly dancer came on. She was older than you might expect from a belly dancer, perhaps mid 40s, and she had obviously had *gasp* given birth at least once. Nor was she stick thin. Having an eye for costumes as I do, I had a great deal of respect for the way she had customized the different elements hers in order to camouflage any evidence that she was a living, breathing person who had a life outside of performing as a dancer or that she had been doing anything at all with her life for longer than 28 years.
She was an amazing dancer with impeccable control, and had mannerisms that I am not used to seeing belly dancers perform in American Tribal Style. One thing that really intrigued me was her eye movements. She would roll her eyes up into her head and blink repeatedly. I was vaguely reminded of other Asian dance styles, such as Balinese, that incorporate exaggerated eye movements into the performance. I was also curious if it was intended to allude to...other areas of human experience that are often associated with belly dancing. The music got very loud suddenly, I think the DJ was trying to ratchet up the enthusiasm of the crowd, but Miles and I had to cover our ears and return to our table.
After the belly dancer, we were all tired and very ready to go home. We straggled out to where our drivers were parked on the outside of the camp and made our way back to the hotel. That ends the tale of Day 1 in Dubai. Check back for more--Day 2: The Tallest Building in the World--tomorrow or the next day.
Everybody's heard of Dubai. Well, perhaps not everyone, but many people have. I think most people know it as a city with lots of wealth, heavy investment in tourism, man-made islands and the tallest building in the world.
My dear friend Bridget studied Arabic there at the American School as a Fulbright Scholar several years ago and I remember all the glowing things she had to say about it at the time. She would almost wax poetic about how beautiful and how safe it was there, how everything was posh and how much she truly loved it. "Really?" I thought. This is still the same part of the world where women aren't supposed to leave home without a male relative to escort them, and the sexes are still segregated, right? I'll admit I didn't know much about Dubai then, and I only know a little more today, but I admit I didn't believe her. I thought perhaps she was only seeing the best of Dubai. I never had the slightest inkling at the time that I would ever visit there myself one day.
After having lived in Kuwait for several months, the difference between the two places was indeed striking. Construction in both places is rampant, and they are both wealthy, they are both Islamic, they are both constitutional monarchies, lead by powerful ruling families who retain strong clan ties to other powerful families, as is common in Arab culture. Indeed, the culture is something that the citizens of both places are obviously proud of, as is evidenced by the adherence to traditional dress and social customs, even as the populations and, to a lesser extent, lifestyles are blended with everything modern, convenient and technological.
But where Kuwait is dusty, dry-looking and has the wary, somewhat hostile feeling of the frontier (except inside the malls, which are huge, shiny and status-baiting enough to do Dallas or Houston proud), Dubai is clean, sparkling, colorful and welcoming. Everything I saw in Dubai showed some measured of care had been taken with it. Even the underpasses along the main motorways had tile mosaics lining them, depicting the culture and heritage of Dubai in big, simple, easy-to-make-out-as-you-are-speeding-by-in-a-cab layouts. I wish I had thought to take a picture of it, but one would have to have a camera constantly at the ready in order to capture every bit of excellent planning in that very well appointed city.
I don't at all mean to imply that the city is perfectly planned or that it is without flaw. In fact, there are some serious issues in Dubai regarding fair treatment for laborers and other, less visible, flaws that desperately need to be addressed before I could give an unreserved endorsement. It's the stark contrast between Kuwait and Dubai that I so curious about. The difference is probably largely related to the fact that for Dubai, the oil has run out, forcing the leadership to find other means of support going forward. Kuwait, still veritably drowning in oil has all the money it needs, and will need for the foreseeable future, so what do they care how clean their streets are, or how efficient and/or beautiful their city is? Or what they will do to sustain themselves when the oil runs out?
Is this the resource curse? Maybe. Maybe not. The oil might never "run out" for them, but that doesn't mean that they still don't need good leadership to drag their country kicking and screaming into the 20th century. Yes, I said 20th century, not 21st. Cell phones, automobiles and air-conditioning do not a millennium make. Even the granting of women's suffrage in 2005 hasn't seemed to have much impact on the visual appeal of the city. Google street view images for Kuwait, and the first thing you will probably notice about them is that it is difficult to tell which part of the city you are looking at, because they all look dusty, beige, and have piles of rubble, sand, and refuse in them.
Kuwaitis are very proud of Kuwait, though. "The Emir, may Allah grant him long life..." is a fond public figure, and Kuwaitis insist that "this is the first country, the best country..." and feel universally that the problems of Kuwait are the fault of all of the foreign laborers who come to their country to work. That doesn't seem to be a point easy to hold onto when one visits Dubai, which also has a huge ratio of foreign workers to citizens. Kuwaitis are wealthy, and by all accounts travel frequently to Dubai. Having the national pride that they do, I can't imaging that they wouldn't go to Dubai and think "I want this for MY country." Where is the pressure that should being exerted on the administrative powers that be to impose cleanliness, efficiency and beautiful order on this wealthy and potentially beautiful nation? Just to prove my point about Kuwait's possibilities, I plan to offer a series of future posts about our experiences and discoveries here that will lend examples and contrasts.
Our visit to Dubai was during the first weekend in March 2012. I have broken the visit up into several posts rather than making it one long post that would eat up too much time to read in one sitting. My next post will cover Day 1--the desert safari! I am going to try to share as much of the experience as possible, so check back soon!
Since we were running a little later than we wanted to--i.e. just enough time to check in, get our tickets, and make the tour--I was feeling tense when I saw all the people who were also waiting to take the tour. I shouldn't have worried, though. Even though there were so many people, the every aspect of the tour is well planned and efficient. Everything was slickly polished and there was a definitely hum and excitement in the air. I couldn't help walking a little too quickly past all of the wonderful information plaques on the hallways leading to the elevators. I wanted to capture it all, but with so many people anxious to get to the top it would have been impossible to linger long enough soak it all in without causing an international incident.
Huge, slick, shiny, full of designer names and gourmet chocolate stores...it was really all too much for me. I'm sure we didn't even get to see half of it, but we finally found a place to have lunch which was really nice a refreshing. It was called Sumo Salad and it was really, really great. I heartily recommend it if you are lucky enough to have one nearby. And if you don't, consider opening a franchise. It's that good! It was also nice to rest for a while. Before too long, we were ready to get back to the business of exploring the mall. There was really too much to see.
We did wander through enough, though, that we found our way to the the Dubai Mall Aquarium & Underwater Zoo which also boasts the Guinness Book of World Record's...uhm, record...for the world's largest acrylic panel. We got the full tour of the Aquarium with the glass bottom boat ride, trip through the "underwater zoo," and a voucher for the gift shop.
The boat rides are scheduled in in 30 minute increments, and we were there early enough that we didn't have to wait too long. While we were wending our way through the "creepy crawlies" section of the underwater zoo, we were offered an opportunity for Miles to sit with a constrictor and have his photo made. Scott had a severe allergic reaction to the tourist dollar trap and had to walk away for a few moments to get his blood pressure back down, but since Miles was game I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass us by! Was it gimmicky and over-priced? Absolutely. Was it worth it? I'll let you be the judge for now, and I will get out the pictures again to show Miles a couple of years from now. And then I'll get them out again to show my grand kids when they are 10 years old and ask them how they feel about it. *wink*
Though our spirits were much higher after such an enjoyable display, we were all definitely ready for dinner by the time the fountain show was over. Scott and I both wanted to take the opportunity to have a nice, quiet "grown up" meal in a sit down restaurant. Scott had done some looking around on that side of the bridge while we were waiting for the fountain to start so he had some idea of what was available. There was a lot to choose from, as in the rest of the mall, but we decided to try a place called the "Meat Co." It was expensive but pleasant and pretty much exactly what we were looking for. I was so tired I don't even remember what I ordered, but I do remember being embarrassed by the way some other American tourists were poking fun at our African waiter's name. I was livid about it, frankly, but I didn't want to embarrass Scott--or our very kind and professional waiter--any more than necessary.
Since we were running a little later than we wanted to--i.e. just enough time to check in, get our tickets, and make the tour--I was feeling tense when I saw all the people who were also waiting to take the tour. I shouldn't have worried, though. Even though there were so many people, the every aspect of the tour is well planned and efficient. Everything was slickly polished and there was a definitely hum and excitement in the air. I couldn't help walking a little too quickly past all of the wonderful information plaques on the hallways leading to the elevators. I wanted to capture it all, but with so many people anxious to get to the top it would have been impossible to linger long enough soak it all in without causing an international incident.
Huge, slick, shiny, full of designer names and gourmet chocolate stores...it was really all too much for me. I'm sure we didn't even get to see half of it, but we finally found a place to have lunch which was really nice a refreshing. It was called Sumo Salad and it was really, really great. I heartily recommend it if you are lucky enough to have one nearby. And if you don't, consider opening a franchise. It's that good! It was also nice to rest for a while. Before too long, we were ready to get back to the business of exploring the mall. There was really too much to see.
The boat rides are scheduled in in 30 minute increments, and we were there early enough that we didn't have to wait too long. While we were wending our way through the "creepy crawlies" section of the underwater zoo, we were offered an opportunity for Miles to sit with a constrictor and have his photo made. Scott had a severe allergic reaction to the tourist dollar trap and had to walk away for a few moments to get his blood pressure back down, but since Miles was game I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass us by! Was it gimmicky and over-priced? Absolutely. Was it worth it? I'll let you be the judge for now, and I will get out the pictures again to show Miles a couple of years from now. And then I'll get them out again to show my grand kids when they are 10 years old and ask them how they feel about it. *wink*
