Dubai - boy

We'd been threatening to visit friends in Dubai for a couple of years now and so we thought five days here would be a good start to our trip. It turned out to be great timing since February is a good time of year for Dubai (cool weather); there were birthday celebrations (a party!) and (as it also turned out) extra friends from London bringing with them an extra birthday and yet more reasons to party (or engage in an animated gathering of friends with good food and drink).

A, D and others had already equipped us with knowledge of life in Dubai so we came loaded with expectations which all seemed to fit reality; from the bored Emirati customs guys flicking aimlessly through our passports (obviously safe in the knowledge that no one would use fake British passports to enter their country) to the mega malls and flashy hotels. We knew not to expect any quantity (or quality) of museums, shows or other types of unholy godless western entertainment commonly found in filthy infidel western Gomorrahs. The one museum we visited: The Museum of Dubai, was a bit crap but at least is was practically free so all we lost was time. I saw a sign for a Museum of Linen but decided that seeing the sign was probably more interesting than the place itself. The Lonely Planet says the "single greatest thrill in the city" is the five minute abra (ferry ride) across Dubai Creek. Nuff said. A bird did shit on me on Dubai Creek (sounds like a good title for a song) and I guess that must take a close second. I shouldn't forget though that Dubai does have the tallest man made structure in the world: Burj Al Khalifa or the Burj or el Burjerino (and formerly known as Burj Dubai in good times). This is a monster of a building that rises over 800m dwarfing an already impressive skyline of skyscrapers. Personally I think they should have gone for an extra 200m and made it a km high. Unfortunately it was closed for repairs, but when open I anticipate it knocking the 'abra across the Creek' from its number one spot.

Though the city itself may lack attractions our days were nevertheless relaxed and pleasantly filled. A and P's flat was spitting distance from the Burj which allowed for ample time staring at its dizzying hights. Clouds would sometimes drift by just below the top floors; bizarre, I imagine, for anyone on the top floor looking down. The buggying over the dunes was awesome; my boy racer ego experienced bliss whilst driving with reckless abandon over the highest dunes our robust little 4x4 could manage, though my passengers may not have shared this. We had cocktails with H in the coolest bar in town, which overlooks (from far away) the Palm Islands. We clubbed Dubai style for P's birthday at a local Salsa joint, which is pretty much like western clubbing with the threat of taxis taking you to the police if you imbibe too much of the unholy substance. D and K were over, both for work in one way or another. It was D's birthday so more celebrations; Champagne and mezzes at their suite followed by steak and some of the finest desserts I've eaten. All meals top notch from pie and beer on our first night to Shisha and hummus on our last.

Oh, and I have some vague recollections of C and me doing a desert safari but that particular escapade full of eastern promise seems like a dream to me now (a dull and forgettable dream).

Dubai - girl

Dubai 18-23 February 2010

I write this sitting in a small hotel room in Delhi - just three hours away but a far cry from Dubai in every other respect.

The main point of our time in Dubai was to see A, P and H. We were also extremely lucky that K and D happened to be in the city at the same time. This made for some wonderful nights out. The typical day for us in Dubai consisted of a late start, late breakfast, some sitting or walking and then an evening drinking and eating. Complain? Certainly not, there’s not much else to do in Dubai. We did try the gold souk - tacky (my favourite item was a transformer head ring: yes, Optimus Prime style transformer); the museum - dull and not informative; and a desert safari - embarrassed we even tried it.

Friday was P’s birthday so as soon as we were done with dune bashing (and man, did we bash them), attentions were turned to the birthday. The party began in the apartment and continued in a salsa club. Any night that begins with Jaegermeister and ends in tequilla shots and cigars can be defined as a good night and this was no exception. We were in bed by 0430. Ow.

Saturday was D’s 30^th so after a lot of whinging about our heads hurting, we trundled over to D and K’s hotel for birthday number 2. This one came complete with champagne, a beautiful sunset and K in full Saudi get up. A slightly earlier night given how much pain we were all still in. A great steak restaurant with the biggest chairs ever and bed by midnight followed.

Monday. C and I made a big mistake and accidentally wound up on a ‘desert safari’ tour. The ‘safari’ was a waste of time and money but I did giggle when an Indian guy in full Emirati get-up was pulled off stage for improper dancing with women only to reveal his western clothes and Hindu self to the entire audience. The day was rescued by an evening of shisha and A and P.

We only went to Dubai to see friends. We weren’t disappointed, a lot of fun was head despite the place having very little to offer tourists. Sure it’s a little lacking in character but who doesn’t want to see the world’s tallest building or a seven star hotel shaped like a sail whilst drinking cocktails on a pier?

And now here we are in Delhi, a crazy, overwhelming city where I feel totally out of my depth despite a love of immersing myself in developing countries. I’m sure it’ll only take a few days for us to acclimatise but we’re certainly not there yet.

Getting ready to go - boy

Not sure there's that much to say about getting ready to go other than it's packing and packing is a right pain in the arse. Whether packing to go on a long trip or packing to leave your flat; both pains in arses. And we have the pleasure of doing both at the same time.

But now it's done I (we) can relax and we did so with a nice game of vodka Scrabble. Just like normal Scrabble only with shots of vodka; where you start to care less and less about who wins as the game progresses.

Getting ready to go - girl

It's been a long time coming, as some song said. But here we are, just one more full day in the UK. We're sitting in an almost empty flat, C's playing on his phone and I'm on the computer - I'm wondering if this is a bad sign before spending six months in each other's company!

C finished work around two weeks ago, I finished last Wednesday. We're both liberated now although I don't feel as if I have stopped running since I stopped working. A lot of nagging from me, some quality sitting from C, eventually some good organising from C and less nagging from me. We have both been injected up to the hilt (actually all injections were well above the hilt!), have both bought cold weather gear, wet weather gear, warm weather gear - when did travelling get a) so expensive? b) so heavy? I think the answer must be 'when we stopped being 19'. C21 travelling is also different to C20 travelling - iPod? Check. iTouch? Check? Cameras 2? Check. Computer? Check. The list appears to go on.

This weekend was all about family good byes - my family first. Parents, brother and sister-in-law. Different to saying goodbye as a teenager off on first travels. We've all done it before, we all go, we all come back, we stay in touch and know we're all loved. Nothing new. C's family next. Parents, his sister, our two month old nephew. Just miss seeing his brother and our other nephew - real shame. Hugs, discussions, computer problems and lots of dancing with new nephew.

Today, up, tidying, faffing and finally getting all our final stuff in to storage - it all seems to boil down to a few boxes. Reminds me of the old person who died with just some personal possessions in the bedside table. Good or bad? I have no idea.

Tomorrow, should be a bit calmer and then it's 'over and out England, come in world'. Now the excitement is building. We're really going, we really have left our stable jobs for the unknown. I'm proud of us.

Kohlfahrt - girl

It's a while since we actually were in Germany but I'm not sure I'll ever forget the weekend B, C and I joined a bunch of crazy (good crazy) Germans to run around the countryside is severely minus temperatures.

C has tended to take part in kolhfart without me for a variety of reasons but this year I was determined to clear my diary for those pesky little cabbages. For back up (and a ride to the airport!) I persuaded B to join us.

However, the ride to the airport was a severe misjudgment and malfunction. Traffic was atrocious leaving London and a c*ck up between C, B and Tom Tom (I take no blame at all!) meant an extra thirty miles of driving when time most certainly wasn't on our side. We were all convinced we would miss the flight but thanks to some expert speeding from B, some expert speeding from a random hotelier and some expert running from  us all, we made it to the plane with approximately no seconds to spare.

Wonderful K and S picked us up at the other end with the, now fully expected, beer box and we headed off down snowy lanes to K and A's home in Worpswede where the other fahrters were already assembled. The night began with large quantities of wine, moved on to food, vodka and a little smokey smokey before we all, eventually, passed out at 4am.

After an enormous breakfast on Saturday we wrapped up in every item of clothing we had and set out on the kohlfahrt. Minus 15 was the coldest but minus ten didn't feel much warmer. Everyone donned the fundamentals of kohlfahrt: shot glass on a string and pretzel on a string; everyone admired the wheelbarrow FULL of beer, schnapps, sausages and sweets and, after the first of many jagermeister shots, we set off.

Games, shots, walking, shots, walking, shots, shots, shots, games - you get the picture. After about three hours of walking/drinking and one wee stop (not fun in that weather), we upped our pace and headed to the finale destination - a great big restaurant/beer hall - for supper and partying. Supper followed tradition - sausage and cabbage, the music followed tradition - pure german cheese and the drinking was as drinking was.

Around 1am everyone was kicked out and we headed once more down icy paths to get home - this time considerably warmer as the drink fire warmed us all from the inside. The party continued back home but I seem to remember some sleeping time between snacks and breakfast on Sunday. Despite being convinced we'd never warm up again, on Sunday we headed out again for a couple of long, sober, walks.

Always a pleasure to spend time with C's friends in Germany and certainly a pleasure to have B with us.

As far as weekends go, it couldn't have been more fun, although next time we'll take the train!

Kohlfahrt - boy

To the airport there went three,

Wife C, me and Scottish B,

Took a car but didn’t see,

That every bugger in London town,

Would take their car and slow us down,

We arrived with barely time to spare,

And then fucked up royally by turning back onto the motorway for which I should probably take the blame since I was the designated navigator.

And I was using a GPS.

Long story short: 50 minutes left; no exit for 15 miles; realisation that we have to do an extra 30 miles; lots of disappointment; some profanity; sense of helplessness. After 15 miles in 12 minutes; some hope; umpteenth call to the hotel where we arranged “airport” parking to request a taxi primed to go; more hope; fast driving; arrive at hotel; throw keys at manager; no taxi but manager takes us formula one speed to airport; profuse thanks; throw tenner at manager; run through empty check-in; hop on flight; breathe. The hotel manager mentioned that “the best trips start out this way”. Couldn’t agree more; simply arriving felt fantastic.

It’s always great to see my friends in Germany and fortunately events and celebrations are frequent, meaning many people are gathered in the same place making it easy to see everyone at the same time. We were picked up at the airport by S and K who planted Becks into our hands and whisked us away in their beer chariot to the pretty village of Worpswede. K was this year’s Kohl Queen (J was King), which meant a lot of organising and rounding up of the loose Kohlfahrters while en route.

Kohlfahrt. To drink and eat from a cart while playing games with your friends in the freezing cold just within the outer limits of the Bremer countryside. Literally cabbage run or way of the cabbage, this green vegetable decorated the cart and provided the obligatory green in the meat fest that awaited us at the end of our cabbage run
.

We waited on the Saturday at midday in sub-zero temperatures for all the parties to congregate. This morning’s hangover was gone, multiple layers of clothing were applied and stomach was lined from a hearty breakfast. Once we were all assembled, self-inspections were made: Schnapsglas tied to string and hung round neck, check. Tissue in schnapsglas to mop up spillages, check. Pretzel tied to string and hung around neck, check. Bite out of pretzel, check. Becks in pocket, check. Finally, we warmed up our drinking arms with some Jagermeister and then made our way out of the icy car park to the start of our trail.

I don’t know exactly how far we ambled around the country lanes or for exactly what amount of time we were out (though I suspect around six hours), but we were never short of provisions or activities. K + J had done well. Large containers of sausage, cheese and sweets were passed around frequently; the mountain of beer slowly but surely became a mountain of empties. Vodka, schnapps and other spirits were slowly being depleted as the afternoon wore on; as did our coherence. We played a lot of typical Kohlfahrt games which involved footballs, teabags, potatoes and string though not all at the same time and the reward for winning was either kudos or drink (curiously English drinking games tend to have drink as a penalty). In my blurry recollections I see E with a potato in his mouth trying to speak (German tongue twisters perhaps?). I don’t remember understanding what he said but then again I don’t speak German.

The whole walk was an extremely pleasant experience and gave me a chance to catch up with friends I hadn’t seen in a long time; interrupted only by the odd food stop, activity stop or toilet stop. We managed to reach our destination before the sun had gone completely and were glad to enter the warmth of the restaurant where our meat feast awaited. The meal is always traditional; lots of sausage, pork, potatoes and the N German duo of Kohl und Pinkel, which is (aside from being a great name for a children’s tv double act) basically cabbage + haggis. A new Kohl King and Queen were chosen from a hat (P + V will have the honour next year) and we danced the night away to “traditional” music that we later agreed was probably 8/10 on the cheesometer. All in all a Knacken Wochenende.

Namibia - boy

Equipped with only a car and a SIM card (and our luggage) we set forth into the desert wilderness on the B1 where not a soul could be seen in any direction. After spending summer in the UK this was our first glimpse of the sun for a few months and it seemed to radiate heat as well as light. Our first stop was a desert camp equipped with pool and barbeques for each air-conditioned tent where we enjoyed a couple of cool beers while watching the landscape ripple in the heat. The nearby Namibian restaurant which sported a zoo of various seasoned marinated game ready to be thrown on hot coals proved to be the best we experienced. There, we could grade animals by their succulence; experience their inner quality with a glass red wine. Game drives would never be the same again as cervine beasts would elicit taste memories of differing qualities.

From the base pleasures of animal feasting we soared high into the skies on a Balloon voyage that took us over valleys and mountains. All is still in the air until there’s a breeze, a signal that the wind will take you on a different course, and if the air doesn’t take you higher then a propane blast will. Our pilot landed with ease of the back of a trailer and let the mass deflate. We had landed for breakfast where we enjoyed more game pleasures, this time mostly smoked with a glass of champagne.

Thus sated, we headed for a luxury government lodge. Not a contradiction in terms and not usually our thing but there was no room anywhere else. There’s lots of space in Namibia but few places to stay. However, the empty space does look amazing from these premium locations.

From there, we drove as far into the desert as out 2x4 would take us; a 4x4 taxi would then take us further and unbeknownst to us, not return. But more on that later. In the blistering heat we scrambled over dunes to arrive at the eerie Dead Vlei, a long since dried up lake that looks the size of a football pitch until you’re in the middle of it. After thirty minutes of walking we slowly began to appreciate its full size as the far side appeared to recede slowly in “dolly zoom” fashion. Not only did we have this acute sense of perspective distortion but there were exceptionally clear fake water mirages all around us at the lake’s rim. The whole effect was awesome - literally. We were enchanted by the place as hundreds of photos of cracked mud, sand, sky and dead trees will attest.

We made our way back, and waited for the 4x4 taxi to return. None did. So we followed some tracks that criss-crossed the dry river bed which we felt sure led to our 2x4, all the while taking pictures of the desert behind us so we’d know where we’d come from should we get lost. Hmmmm. Luckily, we were picked up by a couple in their 4x4 going in the same direction before the need arose to drink our own urine.

Our plans took our little Toyota 2x4 on yet more adventures up The Skeleton Coast where its suspension and grip would be tested to the max on extreme gravel roads, through dried up rocky river beds and over one particular dune that has been crossing a road for the last twenty years and had to be traversed at speed.

Space and scenery was the abiding memory, seemingly endless roads and endless photo opportunities of the “road disappearing over the horizon” cliché.

We breathed in the heady stench of a seal colony, stopped by a decaying hull of a small wooden fishing vessel, did walkabout on a home-made walking safari (we were assured by our guide book that lions were rare in this neck of the woods and hyenas would run away if encountered) and all with barely a human soul in site.

Etosha National Park is worth mentioning here as it’s not just another game park; the sheer quantity of animals is impressive. I guess when the main lake is dry, as it was, all the animals have to congregate by the two dozen watering holes dotted around the park. This leads to light confrontations, mainly between rhino and everything else; the former having a miserable disposition; or maybe charging is its way of saying hello. Astonishingly, we saw a lion up and about, doing some exercise for once. He was walking through herds of nervous looking animals, probably on his way to a watering hole. Most of the other lions behaved predictably enough though, doing what they always do on safaris, ie. sleep. A couple momentarily lapsed into hunting mode and failed spectacularly to catch some colourful but ungainly guinea fowl. King of the jungle my arse.

We managed to miss leopards by a whisker on one occasion, but caught a fifteen minute spectacle of a herd of elephants trooping single file to a watering hole and start bathing and according to C acting all emotional. There was one disappointment though, a night safari, where the only animals we saw were ones that only look interesting on a plate with sauce.

After some brief stops to see some petrified trees, dinosaur tracks the size of chickens feet and a rare Namibian vineyard we arrived back at what must take the prize for the most inactive capital in the world, Windhoek.