Home thoughts from abroad

The roads are awful, the food worse and customer service almost non-existent. Is this really the country I so fondly and frequently reminisce about?

Mrs EoD and I have just returned from our annual peregrination to the UK, doing the usual dutiful round of family, relatives and friends. During this most recent expedition we put nearly 2,000 miles on a hire car and slept in 8 beds in 14 days. Crunch the numbers and I discover that means an average of 2.8 hours behind the wheel every single day of our supposed rest - in reality, it was more than that, because on a small number of those days we actually did manage not to travel anywhere.

Though so recent I can still feel the ache of tired muscles, certain impressions cause me to pause and reflect. Roads, as mentioned. I'm fairly sure they really are deteriorating, becoming more worn and patched with every passing year. Weren't motorways supposed to be smooth and flat and fast, the finest roads the UK could build? Or is the UAE really capable of constructing and maintaining infrastructure on a national scale and of a quality no longer seen as necessary in the UK? I'm sure the argument is lack of funds, but the billions expropriated from motorists through the petrol pump must be going somewhere. Are British drivers so defeatist or despairing that they cannot summon the collective will to in any way alter government mendacity? When did the UK allow government to legislate for every conceivable eventuality (and many inconceivable) eventuality? Aren't they supposed to represent us? To enact our will? When did legislation for the lowest common denominator supplant personal responsibility and integrity? The proliferation of speed cameras, radar traps and other such devices is simply staggering, though their sheer number has indeed brought about a noticeable reduction in traffic speeds. Not an improvement in driving skill, simply a glum observation of punitive enforcement techniques. I spent more time watching the speedo than observing other traffic, hardly a route to better safety. Sadly, it seems if you allow the government a big enough stick, there's no need for a carrot any more.

This same blind acquiescence seems to have percolated into all forms of customer service (though the UAE is very far from perfect in this regard); fortunately, there are still some noble exceptions. How often did we get the shrug, the "that's not what it says here", the 'not my problem' attitude? Too often, that's for sure. How refreshing then, to encounter prompt and unflinching acceptance of fault, swiftly followed by responsible initiative. "Yes, it's our fault entirely. Let me see what I can do about it." Hats off to The Pierhouse at Port Appin, who were charming, honest and accommodating. Look them up, and go and stay.

And so home again to sunny, exasperating, exhilarating Dubai. Discover the 'gardener' (never was a job title more blatantly misappropriated) has desicated the garden. The maid has tidied the fridge. And then managed to accidentally switch it off. The garage had only returned one of the cars. With someone else's junk in the back. Ah well, all of that is for tomorrow.

Tonight, it is enough to whip the top off the Duty Free, top it up with warm tonic and no ice, and finally retire to a firm but familiar bed. Home at last!