Friday, December 3, 2021
Abu Dhabi-Dubai
Return to Dubai and First Day with Affectionate Cousins
Having participated (indirectly) in festivities (fireworks, for instance) associated with the 50th Golden Jubilee of the UAE’s National Day—the year of its founding in 1971—we slept in and woke at leisure. We’d had a wonderful time in Abu Dhabi and covered the items on our Must-See List. It was time to think about departing for Dubai again to begin the third leg of our travels in the UAE.
I should state, at this stage, that in prolonged discussion with my cousin Ashley and his wife, Meena, Llew and I reached the conclusion that we had hopelessly over-estimated the amount of baggage I could carry into India, having based it solely on US air travel regulations. To cut a long story short: Emirates suddenly cancelled my onward flight from Dubai to India (apparently the Indian Government had decided to curtail the number of flights coming into India to keep Covid infections to the minimum). I had no choice but to book a flight from Dubai to Bombay on Air-India. Now, I was allowed 2 free bags of 23 kgs each when leaving New York and Llew, travelling with me, was entitled to the same. As a result, I had about 100 kgs of personal possessions with me and was prepared to pay excess baggage charges for them on the leg from Dubai to India. However, it was Ashley and Meena who informed me that having switched to Air-India, I would only be entitled to one bag of 30 kgs from Dubai to India—the rest would need to be paid for not per piece (as is the custom in the US) but per kilo! When I took into account the fact that I had to transport 75 excess kilos to Bombay, the cost was working out to roughly $1,500—no mean sum! Hence, carrying the excess weight with me was not an option.
My cousin suggested it go “Unaccompanied” either by air or sea cargo. We put in a lot of time and effort, received help from my relative Savio in Bombay and his cousin Marilyn in Dubai, before we arrived at the conclusion that sea cargo would be the most economical—it would cost me about $150. This would be the first thing we would tackle when we arrived in Dubai (where our bags were stashed in our friend Shahab’s home).
With that issue on our minds, we left Abu Dhabi after another good breakfast at Ashley’s place.
Bus Journey from Abu Dhabi to Dubai:
With our little strolley bags with us, we said our goodbyes and thanks to Meena and piled into Ashley’s car. He dropped us off to the Abu Dhabi Bus Station from where we bought tickets to get on the bus to Dubai. The bus was packed but it was a very orderly crowd, returning home after the fun and frolic of the long National Holiday weekend. As much as I had been fast asleep on the journey from Dubai to Abu Dhabi, this time round, I was wide awake and indeed hard at work. I had just realized that I needed to write my annual Xmas article for The Examiner, a Bombay-based Catholic newspaper to which I have contributed unfailingly every year for the past three decades at least! The editor waits for my annual article and will send me a reminder in case I ever forget! Anyway, an idea just came straight into my mind this year with very little effort—in other years, I have spent weeks trying to come up with a suitable theme for my article. This year, my ideas, thoughts and words just flowed in one fell swoop on the bus journey from Abu Dhabi to Dubai. Outside our window, the dessert sand flew by, occasional structures proclaiming the presence of oil rigs came into view and faded, some interesting buildings became evident (such as a round structure that was the football stadium—it had Manchester City writ large upon it), etc. I kept writing steadily and in a little more than an hour, I had the first draft of what would be the article I would submit to the editor, two days later. I passed it on to Llew to take a look and he chuckled softly. It is entitled. “Covidius Pandemix Rocks the Roman Empire”. By the time we were skirting the fringes of Dubai, my article was almost done and dusted.
At Ibn-Battuta Bus Station in Dubai, my cousin Meera’s son Reuben was waiting to pick us up. I spotted him as soon as the bus entered the bay. We met and greeted affectionately and I re-introduced him to Llew—Reuben had met Llew at my parents’ Golden Wedding anniversary celebration, many years previously. Reuben led us to the parking lot where his car (fortunately, a very large one) stood. His wife, Tabita, was inside and we had a nice reunion with her as well. The drive to their home was about twenty minutes’ long as they live in Damac Hills, a new gated ‘community’ that has sprouted up, as so many new ones are doing in Dubai, all over the city. They informed us that all the new housing settlements are being named with the word ‘Hills’ in them—in reference to Beverly Hills to denote luxury!
Reuben and Tabita’s townhouse is spacious and new and since it is only the two of them living in it, there was a room with attached bath reserved just for us on the top floor. It overlooked the wide open spaces of a playing field and was next door to a golf course owned by Trump. After we’d relaxed from our journey a little bit, they suggested we go out to eat lunch as it was already about 2.30 pm by this time.
Lunch at The Irish Village:
A fifteen minute drive brought us to a lovely place called The Irish Village in an area called Studio City. As Reuben parked his car, we noticed that we were surrounded by buildings that, in some way or the other, are associated with film-making—either through administration or editorial or publicity offices, for Dubai has become a popular center for the entertainment industry.
We had a lovely lunch, of course, as we caught up with Reuben and Tabita and got to know her a little bit. Llew and I chose to share the Pigs in Blankets—we did not realize it would be only appetizer size! However, we still had our breakfasts sitting somewhat heavily in our tummies—so the lighter lunch was quite a good idea. Reuben had the Steak Sandwich with chips and Tabita chose the Village Salad. With a few chips from Reuben’s humongous platter, we had quite a filling meal ourselves. I was delighted to be able to order a Guinness on tap—something I can do very rarely and only in an Irish bar. We had very attentive wait staff to look after us and, overall, had a great time. The weather was just lovely with a benign sun shining down upon us and zero humidity in the air.
A Tour Around Damac Hills:
With lunch done, we returned to Damac Hills where Reuben decided to give us a little tour of his residential ‘community’. We arrived at the entrance of the Trump golf course, glimpsed it and turned around. Everywhere you go in the UAE, construction is never very far away. The place is sprouting up like a field of mushrooms after a thunderstorm.
Back at his place, I informed Reuben that we would like to meet his brother Rolen (with whom I had stayed the last time I had visited Dubai). But he told me that Rolen would be leaving for Bombay tomorrow morning and would remain there for a week. That would mean that Llew would not get a chance to meet him unless we planned a meeting this evening. Consequently, we told Reuben to inform Rolen and his family that we would take them all out for dinner tonight to the place of their choice. Arrangements were made by phone and decisions were made to meet at Hessa Street Kitchen, a very lovely pan-Asian restaurant, for dinner tonight.
This left us with enough time to have a leisurely evening at Reuben’s place on his deck as the sun traveled low in the Western sky and we sipped refreshing sundowners. And just before we arrived at the restaurant, Reuben drove us to Shahab’s home in Al-Barsha, so that we could pick up the baggage we had left behind there and bring it over to his. Good Job Reuben had a large enough car!
Dinner at Hessa Street Kitchen:
And so it was that we arrived at Hessa Street Kitchen which is a snazzy, upscale restaurant located in the Radisson Hotel at Dubai, not far from Reuben’s home. The nice thing about living in such gated communities is that one is not in the middle of nowhere. In just five to ten minutes, one can be in the midst of coffee shops, bars, restaurants, etc.—an important factor for Reuben who happens to be a real foodie (he loves good food, enjoys cooking it, eating out and serving it to guests).
Soon after we made ourselves comfortable, Rolen arrived with his lovely wife, Jolene and their two little girls, Sophia and Mikhaela. They brought us a large box filled with assorted spiced nuts—so great! It was so lovely to see them again and catch up with them and the things going on in their lives. Sophia is a lively little thing and kept us well entertained. I could not believe that she is now in the fifth grade. When I had last seen her, she had just begun pre-school. She is talkative, vivacious and great company and kept us all going. We left the ordering to our guests and they chose well. I was delighted to find Laksa on the menu—this wonderfully filling Singaporean soup is made with a coconut milk base and contains a multitude of meat and veg ingredients. This variation was made the Malaysian way, but it was just as good. Extra broth was served on the side so that we could all eat from the bowl, family style. We had chicken satay and spring rolls for starters. Other dishes brought to our table was the Indonesian Nasi Goreng (a kind of spicy fried rice), Mee Goreng (the same in noodle form) Chicken in Green Curry, Beef Rendang (a spicy Malaysian curry that I had once eaten in Manilla in the Philippines and had found to be extraordinary) with Chicken Tikka Masala for the children. Everything was delicious and we had a very good time together. It was indeed a good thing we assembled together to enjoy this meal as it would be the only occasion we would have to do so.
Dinner done, we posed for photographs in the lobby of the hotel before we got into our separate cars and made our way back to Reuben’s place where we got ready for bed.
Until tomorrow, kuda hafiz…
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