And what did you do at the weekend?

Just an average weekend in the Emirates

Thursday was the anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns, Scotland’s most famous poet and the occasion of Suppers in his name being held around the world. Scots at home and abroad gather in significant numbers to observe a number of rituals, recitations of popular works, set piece performances, spontaneous ribaldry and the overconsumption of Scotland’s first national drink. All of which we duly did.

Friday was utterly different, and after a late, uncertain start developed into a rather grand day out. Went shopping, bought duka in Lebanon, played drums in Senegal, admired carpets in Afghanistan, tasted honey in Syria and purchased great lumps of Frankincense from Yemen. Of all the countries we visited, the least advantaged are the most fun, with genuine warmth and welcome, real humour and delight in sharing. Global village, despite its awful access and tawdry performance by some nations who should know better (hang your heads in shame, UK and Italy), remains an uplifting and enthralling experience, and I would heartily recommend it.

And so to Saturday, and another jolly if unexpected jaunt, to the Al Ain Airshow. And what a spectacle that turned out to be. We drove up at lunchtime (a surprisingly long way), found one tiny sign to the Airshow and followed the rest of the traffic. As with Global Village, early arrival is absolutely the key to enjoying the event. We parked easily and close the the entrance, bought inexpensive entrance tickets, were cleared through careful but courteous security and onto the Show itself. A collection of mostly worthy but dull displays by various educational establishments, various aircraft which one could climb all over (or not!) and a couple of other attractions. The Russia Space Museum was a huge disappointment – a few tatty space suits hung around the perimeter of a large tent, unexplained random photos, some bits and pieces of ‘50s and ‘60s paraphernalia with untranslated Russian captions. Never realized space could be so small and grubby.

However, the real action was in sky, and what action it was. When we arrived, it was individual aerobatic display pilots performing both mandatory and freestyle routines, most of which seemed to defy the laws of physics. Single wing, single prop stunt planes doing crazy things only feet above our heads. And it just kept getting better.

Jim Leroy in his Pitt Special biplane is definitely several sandwiches short of a picnic. Amazing skill. I have never seen a plane flying sideways a few feet from the ground, but he managed it. Repeatedly. A sort of controlled crash that didn’t end in disaster.

And then we got into the big stuff. Not one but four international air force formation flying teams – Jordan, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and finally Russia, each more spectacular than the last, and all magnificently impressive. The sight (and sound) of six MiGs in close formation flying near enough to see the pilots is one I will long remember. And I’ll put the pictures up when I figure out how…



Figured!

Too much month at the end of the money?

January is the finest month…

Now that the excess and overindulgence of Christmas is behind us, it is time for a little exertion and sobriety. As ever, the new year brings with it the hollow ritual of resolutions, cheaply made and easily broken. However, it is also the time of introspection and reflection, and of some small, profound decisions. There is real freedom in facing demons, and having acknowledged and accepted the current reality, in deciding to do something about it. Something actively different. Hence as many posts in a month as in the previous twelve…

January is always a long, austere month, at least until certain plans come to fruition (see decisions above!). More writing, better organisation, diversity – discipline and direction will be this year’s watchwords. There will be a book by the end of it. There will be television. There might be radio. The magazine and associated website will also be started. All things considered, it is going to be a busy year.

Though financially painful, this month is not without its rewards. We dine on steak and lobster (because that’s what’s left in the freezer) and on the discounted overstock from Christmas. Hawk-like observation of a certain French supermarket’s chiller cabinet pays particular dividends, and we now have a whole foi gras for which we paid a whole lot less than foi gras money. I feel a dinner party coming on – there’s champagne in the fridge that needs drinking, and I’ve run out of beer…

Funny weather we're 'avin...

Winter. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness - well, sort of.

I am curious about the number of people who are commenting on the current weather, in that they claim it to be unusual in some way. Is it? Last year we had a significant amount of rain, and it aroused a fair bit of comment. This year is supposedly colder than for many previous, but again, is it really? Are floods more frequent, or merely more fervently reported?

Given the relatively transient population of Dubai, certainly those people who I talk to have often experienced only one or two years here, and consequently have little to compare. Is this the coldest it has been for years? Difficult to answer if it's only your second winter. I do know that rainfall averages here can vary wildly (anywhere between 3 inches and 35 inches in a given year), and that the theoretically wettest quarter has only just commenced, but read last year that the totals then were actually completely normal - it was the preceding 4 or 5 years that had in fact been exceptionally dry. Gut feeling says this seems entirely plausible, though I am not enough of a geologist to estimate the amount of rain it takes to carve out some of the wadis around here. I can only imagine that the amount is not small.

So as people shiver in temperatures that struggle to reach the low 20s (where I come from, that's barbecue weather!), I watch the greening of the desert and the press reporting of heater sales with equal amusement.

Back in harness

"And apart from that Mrs Lincoln, did you enjoy the show?"

So, how was it for you? Ten days of idle debauchery, too much food and way too much booze? I wish.

Ten days of chesty debilitation, a completely sober Hogmanay and hardly any shopping. Invited out for lunch on Christmas Day so not even the opportunity to go mad in a kitchen.

And so into 2007. Mostly this year I will be

manifesting wealth

changing behaviours

learning to blog. Regularly.

enjoying moderation

Sounds like a manifesto. Bring it on!