An early start again, as we wanted to visit the Al Ain camel market.<\/p>\n\n
It turned out to be quite a spectacle, with hundreds of camels of various\nsizes and colours in various pens. We were met as soon as we parked by a bunch\nof enthusiastic camel traders, who quickly coralled us along the pens,\nencouraging us to take photos and even trying to remove my camera from around\nmy neck, so that they could take photos of the whole family. I was wary of\nletting them do so, however, and kept a firm grip on it.<\/p>\n\n
We posed for pictures, touched some gigantic, fearsome-looking camels, and\ncooed over baby camels as we walked from pen to pen.<\/p>\n\n
After about ten minutes came the shakedown. One of the men, the one who had\nbeen grabbing at our camera, suddenly demanded 50 dirhams. I should have seen\nit coming, of course, but I didn’t; I mistook the whole performance for\nebulient hospitality.<\/p>\n\n
On the other hand, I have a lot more respect for people who try to make a\nquick score from tourists if they’re up-front about it and a price can be\nagreed in advance, so I was unimpressed with the tactics employed.<\/p>\n\n
I decided on the spot that a few photos with camels wasn’t worth 50 dirhams of\nmy money, so I pulled out my wallet, handed over a 20 dirham note (±\n€4.20) and made it clear that I wasn’t going to haggle. To be honest, I\nsaw the 20 dirhams more as a self-inflicted fine for being so naïve than\nas a payment for services rendered.<\/p>\n\n
He backed off, but then the next of the traders indicated that he was ready\nto receive his 20 dirham note, too. Nice try, mate, but nothing doing. I shook\nmy head and we simply walked away.<\/p>\n\n
We took a few more photos and talked to a couple of traders about prices. We\nwere told which camels were for meat and which were not. The latter category\nare presumably for breeding, riding or even racing.<\/p>\n\n
Ever since childhood, I have recalled the cliché of the westerner who\nvisits Arabia and is offered camels in exchange for his wife. Well, perhaps\nunsurprisingly, the same happened to me today. I was offered a whole batch of\ncamels in return for Sarah, plus a sizeable lump sum of cash for Eloïse.<\/p>\n\n
I made it clear, however, that Sarah is good breeding stock, and that I’m\ntherefore hanging on to her for the time being.<\/p>\n\n
With the camel market ticked off, we picked up our clean laundry, went back to\nthe hotel, packed and checked out. We pointed the car in the direction of Abu\nDhabi and sped off across the desert.<\/p>\n\n
What an amazing road. Route 22 to Abu Dhabi is a six-lane motorway (three\nlanes in each direction) with almost no traffic. It runs in what amounts to a\nvirtually straight line right across the desert; you could make a safe attempt\nat the land speed record across most of it.<\/p>\n\n
This massive boulevard is lined with trees across its entire length, but not\njust with trees, either. No, the entire length of motorway is also illuminated\nby lampposts, which must make it the longest stretch of illuminated road I’ve\never come across.<\/p>\n\n
As in America, cars cruise along the middle lane with little regard for what’s\ngoing on to the left or right of them, never mind behind. Dunes rise up on\neither side, then fade away again, only to return a few tens of kilometres\nfurther down the road.<\/p>\n\n
One need never take one’s foot off the accelerator until one reaches the first\nset of traffic-lights on the outskirts of Abu Dhabi. We drove all the way into\nthe city until we could go no further, then turned right along the corniche\nand admired the stunning skyline of the nation’s capital. It’s an impressive\nsight, it has to be said.<\/p>\n\n
We pulled up in front of our hotel, unloaded our bags and left the car in the\nhands of the valet while we went inside to check in.<\/p>\n\n
We’re staying in the Sheraton, which in my experience is usually a so-so\nhotel: perfectly comfortable, but unremarkable; a bog-standard hotel, in other\nwords. Not so this one. The reception area is beautiful: gorgeous high\nceilings, exquisite furnishings and tasteful masonry.<\/p>\n\n
We were greeted with glasses of chilled apple juice to drink while we checked\nin. Then, it was up to a really lovely room on the fifth floor to enjoy the\nview of the sea from our balcony.<\/p>\n\n
Sarah and I were champing at the bit to get out and explore the city, so\nwithout further ado, we had our car retrieved and then set out to inspect the\nAbu Dhabi Mall<\/a>, which comes highly recommended as a taste of the city.<\/p>\n\n As expected, it wasn’t quite the almost surreal experience that Dubai’s Mall\nof the Emirates offers, but it was great fun to see the cosmopolitan spectacle\nof men in dishdashas<\/em><\/a>, women in beautifully adorned abayas<\/em><\/a> (which the\nMuslim women use to great effect to express their personality), western\nexpats, Indians and people from all over the Asian subcontinent. What a\nfabulously diverse and international place this is, and with little sense of\nracial tension, too.<\/p>\n\n The modern shopping mall is really the latter-day equivalent and logical\nextension of the age-old souq. Here, too, as in the West, women love to shop\nfor the latest fashions and designer brands, which they sport under their\nalluring abayas<\/em>. Behind their veils, they press the latest model of mobile\nphone against their ear and catch up on the latest gossip from friends.<\/p>\n\n I have come to think about Muslims quite differently during this trip,\nespecially the women. Like so many people, I once saw the veil as a form of\noppression, but for some women, it can lead to the discovery of a type of\nfreedom unavailable to many women in the West.<\/p>\n\n One western woman writes: “From simple hair-tie to hat, from scarf to veil\nuntil finally the full outfit. With every step, the reception was warmer and\nthe freedom fuller. From within the veil I could see without being seen,\nunderstand what without being understood, and ogle the magnificent tribesmen\nwithout suffering inspection myself. It protected me from the sun and kept out\nthe dust. It hid blemishes and bags. It concealed uncombed hair, a crumpled\nshirt or clumsy cosmetics. When I returned to London, the pressure to appear\nfeminine, au fait<\/em> and fashionable again seemed overwhelming. To my surprise,\nI secretly longed for those days in the veil…”<\/p>\n\n Having travelled around this part of the world for the last few weeks, I can\ncompletely understand those sentiments. Yes, for some women, the veil is a\ncultural obligation, but in practical terms it affords them as much freedom,\nif not more, than it removes.<\/p>\n\n The visit to the mall was Sarah’s idea, but, as usual, she ended up buying\nnothing. This time, however, I<\/strong> shopped until Sarah<\/strong> dropped at the\nVirgin Megastore.<\/p>\n\n An attractive Muslim girl in headscarf helped me pick out various Arabian CDs\nto listen to. We’ve had music blasting from the car radio throughout this\ntrip, but I have no idea who any of the artists are. Faced with an\noverwhelming selection of Arabian artists, I needed some help to navigate the\nfield.<\/p>\n\n Between her and the store DJ with whom I struck up a conversation, I was more\nthan catered for with one fabulous CD suggestion after the other. I’d expected\nto buy just two or three CDs, but I eventually left the shop with no fewer\nthan nineteen (with plenty more yet that I would have listened to, had I been\nalone). Sarah was grimacing with boredom by this point.<\/p>\n\n After a cup of coffee, we crossed the road and went to a small shopping centre\nwith vendors selling goods of a more ethnic nature. We spent quite a bit of\ntime in a Persian carpet shop and were rather shocked to discover how cheaply\none can purchase a sizeable, hand-made carpet over here.<\/p>\n\n From there, we returned to the car and drove back along the corniche, stopping\njust before sunset at the Family Park, where children were flying kites and\nplaying on the best set of climbing frames, swings and roundabouts either\nSarah or I have ever seen.<\/p>\n\n As the sun went down, the place really came to life.<\/p>\n\n Parents and children here seem to keep different hours. Whereas a European\npark would be desserted by 19:00, this park was now buzzing with life, as\nchildren ran and jumped in every direction, whilst their parents, mostly the\nmothers and their female friends, sat on large mats on the grass, eating a\npicnic supper and smoking wonderfully fragrant shisha<\/em><\/a> in large hookahs<\/em><\/a>, the scent of apple\ntobacco wafting through the air like an orchard.<\/p>\n\n People from every walk of life were present in the park. It was clean and\nunspoilt, there were no unsavoury types hanging around, and the atmosphere was\njoyful. Eloïse joined in with the rest and it was easy to imagine being a\npart of life here.<\/p>\n\n Amazingly, a cool breeze had begun to blow through the park. It’s the only\ncool breeze we’ve felt during our entire stay in the region.<\/p>\n\n What a great place Abu Dhabi is revealing itself to be. We’re eager to sample\nmore of what it has to offer tomorrow, but already we’re sure we’d like to\nreturn.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" An early start again, as we wanted to visit the Al Ain camel market. It turned out to be quite a spectacle, with hundreds of camels of various sizes and colours in various pens. We were met as soon as … Continue reading