Feeling flabby in Abu Dhabi

The GIRL had her third birthday on Friday, and her favourite presents seem to be the toy dishwasher and the toy medical kit she acquired. In between loads of teeny-weeny cups and plates going through the dish-washer, we were subjected to injections, stethoscope investigations and spoonfuls of invisible - but always nice-tasting - medicine.

After a brunch involving balloons, fudge brownies and a nasal rendition of Happy Birthday Dear GIRL by a chorus of South East Asian waiting staff at Planet Hollywood, we rolled home, and before long I had to depart for Abu Dhabi. The GIRL wasn't very happy, but I assured her my return would be swift. I had to go and see a man about an oryx, or something, and that involved an overnight stay in the UAE's capital city. So after a kiss and cuddle and another listen to my heart, I set off along Sheik Zayed road, past Jebel Ali, and out into the desert.

It isn't long before I am almost completely alone on the highway to Abu Dhabi. The motorway looks new, with pristine white stripes and dark, even tarmac. The infinite lines of metal crash barriers separate the road from the desert, which is bleak and flat here. There isn't much to look at, apart from the odd power line and scaffold-supported hoarding heralding some up-coming mega-development to swallow up the empty sand. Now and then, a lonely-looking man in traditional Pakistani dress appears by the road, watching the traffic zip by.

Then the desert changes, and more vegetation springs up on each side of the motorway, and a line of trees takes up residence along the central reservation. A few settlements begin to emerge, and it soon becomes apparent that you are in a different Emirate. The road signs change slightly, and the service stations become the blue and white liveried Adnoc station, each with a mosque in the vicinity. One large, yellow road sign raises a chuckle, imploring the driver to BEWARE OF ROAD SURPRISES. I wonder what kind of surprises they mean; giant birthday cakes in the fast lane? Or perhaps Orang-utans on Harley Davidsons.

Soon enough, Abu Dhabi was upon me, with the airport whizzing by on the left. I kept right as much as I dared, based on the little map I had bought at a book shop earlier. I only went slightly wrong, approaching the main part of the city on the wrong road, but parallel to the one I wanted to be on, so it was just a question of cutting across to the road I needed. Abu Dhabi has a nice easy grid system of numbered roads with odd numbers running one way and even numbers the other, so there was never much danger of getting too lost.

My inadvertant diversion was a blessing in disguise, because I managed to get a good view of the incredibly massive, and I mean ginormous, Zayed Grand Mosque which is under construction, and almost complete. It has more shiny white domes than a convention for the follically challenged, and four huge minarets that reach skywards like giant, ornate pencils. I've since heard that it has been under construction for years now, and has been beset with problems galore.

The diversion was, as I said, a problem of miniscule proportions, and I found my destination. The words "hotel apartments" tend to fill me with dread these days, after my experience with the hotel apartments I was subjected to on my arrival in Dubai last August, but I was in for a pleasant surprise. The hotel apartment I was given for the night was a newly-refurbished and very pleasant flat, with separate kitchen, bedroom and lounge, and even two - count them - two toilets. The kitchen was the most impressive part, with a proper cooker, a fridge freezer, a microwave, a kettle and full sets of crockery, cutlery and pots and pans. Call me easily pleased, but I was impressed.

That night, I was entertained by a chap who works for the company I had come to meet in the morning, and we partook in a perfectly adequate Mexican meal and a few tonsil-loosening beverages. After the meal, we went to a bar called Hemingway's at the Hilton hotel. It had three distinct zone within it, including a deserted night club and a lively, smoky jazz bar, which is where we ended up, watching the obviously talented musicians strutting their stuff on a stage the size of an A4 envelope. My company for the evening told me that they used to have a grand piano on said stage, which meant the rest of the band had to huddle together in one corner. I hope they got on well.

After the jazz, which really ain't my bag, since I don't wear polo-neck sweaters and say "Nice" all the time, I was conveyed back to my hotel apartment, taking in the sights of Abu Dhabi Corniche as we went, passing the Emirates Palace and various other landmarks on the way. There aren't as many huge skyscrapers as in Dubai, with no building over 40 storeys by my estimation. It seems this will change, as seems to be the pattern round these parts. The amount of high buildings is obviously a good barometer of a nation's and city's status.

By daylight, AD appears to be a much greener and tranquil place than Dubai, and yet seems livelier and more developed than Doha. I also noticed that the air is much clearer, which is nice when you are used to the ubiquitous dust of Dubai, from the construction sites that take up a pretty large slice of the land, and if there isn't a construction site, there is invariably a sandy wasteland waiting to be developed. AD has some construction, of course, but you get the sense that the place is far more established, with more grass and trees - almost approaching Al Ain levels in some areas. Of course, if you lived here, got a bit bored with the place, and had the urge to subject yourself to the in-your-face glitz and craziness of Dubai, you know it's only an hour and a bit to drive there. I don't see why you would want to do it that much, as there seems to be plenty there. It maybe doesn't attract the same headlines and events that Dubai does, but on the other hand, AD has just won the rights to host the 2009 Formula One Grand Prix, so there must be something going for the place.

So, dawn broke, and I slept off the previous night's alcohol. I had made the mistake of leaving my car in an unsheltered spot overnight, without the sun shades in the front window, and by the time I finished my late-morning meeting and got in it to go home, it was past noon, and the temperature inside could easily have baked a few scones. The steering wheel was white hot, so I had to treat it like a hot potato as I navigated my way back out of AD, at least until the AC had cooled the car down. I stopped for a hot dog for dinner, then continued back towards Dubai, sticking the mp3 player on shuffle and listening to a few good driving tunes as the greenery of AD disappeared into the haze behind me.

You know you're in Dubai when you start seeing the cranes. There are new buildings springing up at least 20 kilometres before the Ibn Battuta mall. The metro line extends right into Jebel Ali, much further than I realised, with the thick, evenly-spaced columns sprouting up all along the side of SZR up to the Trade Centre roundabout, before veering left towards Burjuman and Bur Dubai. Some have nothing on top, just a section of bare reinforcing steel, others have concrete plinths sat atop them which will support the u-shaped pre-cast sections of the track bed, and quite a few already have the track bed extending between them. This track bed increases in length every day. They are going at some pace, and they have to, because the metro is supposed to be working in 2 year's time. There weren't even any columns when I arrived 10 months ago, so I mean it when I say they are cracking on with it.

A curious thing I've noticed about the metro is the way the raised track is designed. It doesn't go along at one level as you would expect, but rather resembles some kind of drawn-out rollercoaster ride with rises and dips taking the track over and under the many bridges and fly-overs at the junctions of SZR. I'm not an Engineer, but this seems a bit strange to me. I thought trains didn't like slopes. It will certainly be interesting to see what a train going along at 100kph will look like as it rises and falls on this track. I hope they will provide sick bags.

And then, another weekend has ended, and that means work. Sunday was the day from Hell, or at least Hull, which isn't far off. I had been trying to meet several deadlines at the end of last week, and with three major ones on my shoulders jockeying for position, I had to try and manage my time in an effective manner. I sometimes struggle to do this, especially with the impossible demands that Middle Eastern companies seem to have, and managed to meet the sum total of none of my major deadlines. I was too phased and dazed to work the weekend, and I had prior commitments anyway, so the mess I had to clear up on Sunday was not good. I had snotty e-mails from clients and lectures from Managers and phone calls from crazed Engineers, all telling me I was crap and making me feel crapper. By the end of the day, I had put out most of the fires that had sprung up, but it was bloody hard work. What I need now is a long holiday - two weeks of doing nothing. I'm scheduled to go back to the UK for 2 weeks mid-July, and I can't wait.

A Bridge Over Troubled Wadis

Being the sad bastard with techy/geeky, almost anorak-wearing tendencies that I am, I thought it would be nice for us to have a drive over the new bridge across the creek that opened a couple of weeks ago. It seems to have been given the honour of having two names, which can lead to some confusion on the approach to it. In most of the blurb that was faithfully trotted out in the local press, along with promises of improved traffic flow, ease of access and free camel cheese, it was named "The Ras Al Khor" bridge, by virtue of it's proximity to that oasis of verdant nature inhabited by long-legged pink birds. Fair enough.

And then, the bridge opened. One morning the Oud Metha Road had magically sprouted 2 extra lanes and a set of traffic lights. A yellow sign, with the smallest words I have ever seen printed on a road sign, informed the confused drivers hurtling merrily along that they could fork left to go to Dubai or right to go over the new bridge. It was a bit messy those first few days while people got used to which lane they were meant to be in, then they reverted to their usual tactic of switching lanes at the last possible second.

As the days progressed, more signs appeared around Dubai, but most of them were directing the drivers to the "Business Bay Crossing". It sort of points towards the huge Business Bay development, but isn't really that close to it at all, but there we go. Who am I to argue?
I can imagine a few people get confused by this situation. They pootle along in their Sunny at 40kph, faithfully following the signs for Business Bay Crossing. All of a sudden, the signs disappear, and they are faced with a sign pointing to Ras Al Khor Bridge. I bet they go crazy.

I went crazy, but not because of the signs. I went crazy because I assumed (wrongly) that the new bridge would bring me to the entrance of Festival City, thereby rendering Garhoud Bridge a redundant piece of civil engineering. As we drove over the bridge, everything was fine. It isn't actually complete yet; it's a double bridge with six lanes each side, and only one side is open so far, but still, it goes over the creek, and is free of queues of impatient drivers with twitchy horns. The problem became apparent as we came down onto the far shore. As we started leaving the bridge, we could see Festival City, and as the bridge road filtered towards and joined the main road, we watched helplessly as the exit to Festival City, positioned agonisingly close to where we joined the road, but just behind our entry point, passed by in a blur.

This is life in Dubai: You can see what you want, but you can't have it. You'd have thought they'd have built the bridge so you could get straight into Festival City. Oh, no. That would be far too simple. So, as is the custom here, we ended up driving in a huge, 10km loop to get back to the Festival City exit. Stunning. By the time we reached the car park under Marks and Spencers I was frothing like a badly-pulled pint.

I calmed down after some retail therapy, and despite the WIFE insisting on a visit to the Plastic Swedish Hell we all know as IKEA, I left Festival City in a reasonable mood. I had thought about trying to get back over the creek on the new bridge, but thought better of it. I'm sure when it's finished, they will sort it out and make access and egress much easier. Silly me, making assumptions again, thought it might already be that way.

The coup de grace was yet to come. I decided that we should visit Mirdiff, because I'm that kind of guy, and we headed out of FC and along the Rashidiya road. About 2km along it, we spotted a brand new entrance to Festival City. How we laughed. If we'd stayed on this road to begin with, we'd have got there without having to drive an extra 10km. Ah well, we know for next time.

So, Mirdiff. A weird place, right under the flight path towards DXB. I went to look at a few villas there when I first came out and was looking for a place to live, but the sound of low-flying passenger jets every 2 or 3 minutes put paid to that idea. I hadn't been back, and the family hadn't seen it, and I wanted to try a burger at the new Gourmet Burger Kitchen branch, so that's where we went. The GBK is in the Uptown development, which is a very European-styled residential and retail development with large circular plazas and steep-rooved low-rise buildings containing shops and apartments. Last time I came to the development, only Spinneys the supermarket was open. This time, the whole place was open, with lots of clothes shops and cafés to browse or sit down for a drink in.

We found the GBK and ordered some burgers, chips and lovely-sounding chocolate-bar-themed malt shakes. We were first there, but soon other people started filtering in. One woman came in and asked if they did anything other than burgers, which the WIFE found highly amusing. The burgers arrived, rising like SZR towers from the plate, with thick patties, masses of salad and relish, all contained in a large sesame bun and held together with a large cocktail stick. They weren't edible in the traditional burger fashion, and had to be dismantled. I removed the lettuce and tomato and anything else slightly organic-looking and tucked in.

They were OK. Nice, but not the best burger I've ever had, I must say. The shakes were good, and massive. The bill was more than I thought it would be for a trumped-up burger joint. 6 out of 10, if you were to ask me to rate it.

So, tomorrow I could end up in Doha again. They need me there, and I could be there a while this time. I don't mind, as long as I'm back for the arrival of my parents and brother.

TTFN.

The Tourist Trap

I'm off on holiday / leave / vacation (call it what you will) this week, so have been taking the chance to do a few more of the touristy things, and take the in-laws to see a few places before they head back to the UK on Friday night. It has certainly been an experience for them. Different people from work have still managed to call me almost every day. The place is falling apart without me. Well, canteen takings are down, that's for sure.

We spent the day at a beach resort the other day. It was in the Marina area, and we had to drive through a massive building site (even more of a building site than usual) to get there. The dust was really bad that day, as it was quite windy, and it was even worse around the Marina area, where they are building the massive, monolithic, and frankly ugly towers that make up the Jumeirah Beach Residence. All kinds of lorries, cement mixers and construction plant was whizzing around or parked in stupid places (with the obligatory hazard lights on). We got lost, or should I say misdirected by poor road signs, but eventually got there.

Once inside the hotel, we made our way to the private beach, paying a fee for the privilege, of course. But that's OK, becuase the beach in this place was a world away from the Jumeirah Beach Park. The litter was minimal, and there were free towels, plentiful sun loungers and parasols, and good catering facilities. Nearer the hotel itself there were swimming pools, and between the pools and the beach, there was a lush patch of grass, again covered in loungers. Near the end of the beach we moved to, there was a big play area for the little ones, and to one side, near the gentle, turquoise waves of the Gulf, there was a Water Sports booth, with kayaks and dinghys and giant inflatable bananas. The best thing about it was the lack of airborne dust. The beach was quite well sheltered from the elements (apart from the sun, which contrived to burn me, the swine).

So we lounged on loungers, paddled in the cool sea, and generally soaked up the whole holiday atmosphere. After an hour, I hinted heavily at my hunger levels, so we headed up to the outdoor restaurant by the grass area and had a reasonably good barbeque buffet lunch. I think we were on the menu as well, because the WIFE was bitten several times on her legs by something under the table. It must be said, the flies were annoying, and there seems to be increasing numbers of them.

After lunch, we moved to the pool area to let the KIDS have a good splash and play in the kiddie pool, until the GIRL decided she'd had enough, and filled her swimming nappy with something slightly less pleasant-smelling than a dead rat with B.O. We took that as our cue to leave, but had had a good few hours there in the sun. My red head and shoulders were testament to that.

Then on another evening, we went to the Marina promenade area, just as the sun was setting, and ate a pleasant, if slightly chilly al-fresco meal at an Italian restaurant. As darkness fell, we watched the towers around the Marina light up in their many different colours. Even the cranes light up round here, and we watched them as they beavered away on their 24/7 mission to finish Dubai.

After the meal we walked back towards the water feature on the walkway between the Main towers, and the BOY and GIRL took great delight in jumping in and out of the water jets in the pavement as they danced to their pre-set programmes. They got soaked, but had good fun. Luckily, the WIFE had come prepared with changes of clothing. The MIL chose to abstain from getting wet again. I took a seat at the nearby promenade cafe and ordered a shisha and watched the kids enjoying themselves. When they'd finished, we all sat down and the shisha was passed around. After a bit of spluttering and the odd comical expression, we headed home again.

Today, we decided to go for an Afternoon Tea at a nice hotel. We ended up at the Ritz Carlton, which is also in the Marina area. I got lost again, mainly due to bad signs again, but got there in the end. We had wanted to do the tea thing in the Burj Al Arab, but when we'd phoned them to enquire, they told us we weren't nearly posh enough. Or maybe it was because they were fully booked until the end of the month.

Either way, the Ritz Carlton did not disappoint in the slightest. Scones, cakes and sandwiches galore were brought to the table on tiered trays, and we polished them off with little moans and exclamations of pleasure. The food really was top notch. The surroundings were superb as well, with massive chandeliers hanging from a dark varnished wood ceiling, massive plush sofas and chairs to sit on, and a lady on the piano in the corner playing a mixture of inoffensive, instantly forgettable music. Through the windows we could see the Arabian Gulf, looking particularly clear today, with a few white-topped waves rushing in on the landward breeze.

Tomorrow we're going to go on a Big Bus ride, which is an open-topped bus that tours the city. I will definitely be putting on some sun-block tomorrow.

Deeper and deeper

So I got my residence visa last week. It happened quite quickly after the medical. I've also got my driving licence, after another visit to another red-tape nightmare with more multiple points of liaison and more sitting waiting for your number to be called while other people ignore the queueing system and just wander up, even when other people are being dealt with. It probably wouldn't have been half as bad if I had actually had my original passport with me. As it was, I had to drive all the way to work to collect my passport through atrocious weather (the wettest December in eleven years, so they say) and trying to get back without getting stuck in a traffic jam on SZR caused by an awful accident early that morning which claimed 9 lives. It seems that people were driving too fast for the conditions again. "Will the learn?" you may ask. I doubt it.

After getting back and waiting some more, I eventually walked away with a nice new shiny gold credit-card-sized licence. I also got a parking ticket. Hurrah!

Traffic, traffic, traffic. It's really starting to grate now. Almost every journey of more than ten minutes in duration will involve some kind of traffic jam or hold-up, and there are often no tangible reasons for it. I've been trying to get savvy and find short-cuts, but I always end up in another queue when I try to get back to the main route. The confusing thing for me is how it has got noticably worse since the end of Ramadan. Before Ramadan was bad enough, during it was absolutely great with everyone going home early, but since the end of it, the number of cars on the road seems to have suddenly doubled, and with all the rain recently, it has only made things worse still. I don't know if it's because quite a lot of people went away for the summer and are now back. It might be a factor.

So, I think on and on about it. I feel quite lucky to live this end of Dubai, where the traffic going to town in the morning and back out on an evening isn't nearly as heavy as the traffic heading in the other direction. But for how long will this last? You only have to look up a bit as you drive around to see all the tower cranes working constantly, and you can't help notice the giant hoardings going up everywhere trumpeting some new mega-development: Sports City, Falcon City of Wonders, The Lagoons, The second Airport, Dubailand....the list goes on and grows seemingly by the day. I don't know what the projections are, but this place could well be double the size it is now in a decade's time.

There are promises of new roads and there is a metro system under construction, but I can't help but wonder what it will be like to live and work here in the not-so-distant future. And the nagging question that I can't get over (aside from building all these mega-structures on sand) is...Who is going to live here, and what are they going to do?

I'd say 60% or more of those living here now are working in construction, from labourers to the likes of me. What happens when it's finished? A lot of people will have to go home or find something else to do. Of course, there will be service-sector jobs, but what about those being served? Where are they coming from? Who are they? Hey, I'm sure they have a plan here, but I'll be damned if I can see what it is, knowing where they are taking this place in terms of development. There are ports and airports and hotels and theme parks to run, yeah, but that won't employ the population of a four-million-plus city, will it? Will it?

As far as I'm concerned, I can't see us living here more than the originally-planned two years. I think we will have had enough by then, and may want a bit of a quieter life. I'm enjoying quite a lot about the place, really I am, but now that I've been here a while, the novelty and the sheen have worn off and I'm seeing more and more of the bad things that lie under the surface and don't get advertised. Then there's the whole hypocrisy issue. Being a liberal/left-winger/commie pinko here isn't a terribly comfortable feeling, and you end up switching part of yourself off to deal with it when you see the effects and (even benefits of) rampant, naked capitalism. See no evil, and so forth. How long one can keep it up for is an intriguing dilemma.

Take Me Higher

This is an interesting website.

It's all about the Burj Dubai, which is currently being built just off the Sheik Zayed Road. It will be over 800m tall (half a mile!) and will have 162 floors (maybe more), and will be the tallest building in the world (by a long chalk) when finished in 2 or 3 years' time. Taipei 101, the current highest, at less than 600m high, will be a tiddler in comparison.

I've seen it many times - I pass it on my way to work every day. It's already the bigget building in Dubai, currently standing at 74 floors. They are building it at a rate of a floor a week, which means they should be done in about another 88 weeks. Then there's just(!) the outer cladding and the internal works to do. The thing is, it doesn't really look that big from a distance, but when you get up close, you appreciate what a massive beast it is - and will be. According to the website linked, it's not even close to half-way completed in height terms. I managed to get close last Thursday - eventually - because I had to go and see a man about another tall building (the one in Doha that I'm working on), and he just happens to work in a site office that is situated at the foot of the Burj.

The other staggering thing about it is the development going on all around it. It's like a town in itself, with other towers and malls and parks and Lord only knows what else. The very plush sales area (no small development in its own right) to one side was easy to find, but I managed to get lost trying to find the site office right next to the tower, which sounds ridiculous considering the size of it, but the actual development has one small site entrance which isn't that easy to find if you're a relative Dubai newbie like me. But I think what I'm trying to say is...IT'S HUGE!

But then, you come across this in Wikipedia, which is a list of the tallest buildigs structures in the world. If you look at section 5, you will see some of the proposed new structures that are in the pipeline, and you realise that the Burj Dubai is suddenly looking like a model of Canary Wharf in comparison to what is being planned. They are talking about building one in Kuwait that will be 1,000m high, but that is still dwarfed by the proposed Murjan Tower in Bahrain, which will be 1,022m high, and will have 200 floors. Truly mind-boggling.

Not only do you wonder how they can possibly build something so high (and take your hats off to the Engineers), you wonder about the logistics surrounding such a structure. What would happen to people on the 200th floor if a fire broke out on the 10th? The stairs would take about 2 hours to descend. Or are they planning to provide parachutes or death slides attached to other buildings? Madness. You won't get my up one of them, that's fo sho. I got to the first floor of the Eiffel Tower and wanted to go back down. I don't feel safe unless there is land all around and level with me.

It seems this part of the world has become obsessed with building the biggest of everything now. They've made a heap of money from oil, and want to spend it by playing with life-size mecanno sets, trying to outdo their neighbours. Where will it end?

Water, water everywhere...

Time for a grumble. I've been mainly positive up to now, making out that life in Dubai is perfect. Well, maybe not, but it's time to get something off my chest.

I read a statistic the other day. I can't remember where, probably in the local free tabloid (think the UK's Metro) called 7 Days or possibly Time Out Dubai. It stated that the average daily consumption of water in the UAE is 500 litres per person. That really is quite startling when you think about it. It's one of the highest rates, if not THE highest in the world. I started to think about my own contribution to this incredible figure: I drink maybe 2 litres a day, have a shower, go to the bog a few times, wash my dishes, etc., but 500 litres? Come on! Then I thought about it some more, and it started to make sense why this place uses so much. Driving around Dubai on a daily basis, you see sprinklers everywhere. There is grass, established and newly-planted, all over the place, and in the heat of the desert summer, it needs watering at least twice a day. Yes, sand is boring. Grass and greenery looks nice. So I kind of grudgingly accept it as being par for the course. Har-de-har. It's part of the whole experience here. You turn a blind eye to these excesses, and the liberal /environmental guilt is pushed to one side when you see the things that you see, and hear about some of the stuff that goes on. It's the price you pay for coming to a place like this. But then some things just push you too far.

On my daily drives around the vast suburban sprawl that is Springs, I often come across large puddles and streams of water flowing across the streets, and wonder where it's coming from. I now have my answer. Today I spotted a hired hand (gardener/maid/not sure?) hosing down the block-paved carport area to the front of a villa. I drove by slowly and watched as this person blithely ejected litres and gallons of water onto the paving, all with the supposed aim of clearing away the sand and dust that gathers in such areas (To be fair, it gathers everywhere). The street was a veritable river, and a big blob of wet sand was gathering in the gutter. Amazing. What a complete waste of water! Why not sweep the paving? The sand comes back, unerringly, indefatigably, every single day, because, what do you know, we live in the desert, and it's windy most of the time, and so the hired hand has to repeat this task every few days, just so that the poor Sirs and Madams don't have to walk in a bit of sand. Now I know where the 500 litres goes.

You really have to wonder, because every week or so there are grim warnings in the press about how the water is going to run out soon. There have been shortages already in some, less well-off areas (quelle surprise), and the rate of growth here just boggles the mind. Where do they get it all from, and how are they going to supply all these developments? Not just for human consumption, either. Most of these developments have water features - man-made lakes and lagoons and huge centre-piece fountains or waterfalls. It seems that most of the water here is desalinated. It is OK to drink, but everyone drinks spring water, which is sold cheaply in the supermarkets or delivered to your home if you have an office-style water-cooler. (I'd get one, but would worry about the WIFE and the KIDS congregating round it and gossiping about me). Apparently, there are underground fresh-water supplies, but they are being depleted at an alarming rate, so they say. I really hope that the people in charge know what they're doing here, because it could all go horribly wrong if they don't rein in the ridiculous levels of consumption, especially of the kind that is competely and utterly unnecessary. Come on, it is. I can't think of one defence for it.

They're Here!

Not the Magic Camels of Nad Al Sheba, or the Mystical Maniacs of Sheik Zayed Road - no, my family! Woo-hoo.

I tell you what, though, what a bloody going on getting them in the country. It took almost 2 hours for them to get from the plane to meeting me. Sheesh. And with the phones not working, we were unable to communicate, so I must have turned about 4 different colours while I was stood waiting for them.

Anyway, they're here now, and it's like a whole other chapter of our lives has begun. The chapter involving my time alone in this crazy city is over, and now the chapter with my family begins. I hope that they like it. They seem to be getting into it. The BOY is taking to his new school like a duck to hoi sin sauce. The GIRL couldn't care as long as she gets her dose of mind-numbing kids TV and regular food. The WIFE is just bamboozled, trying to learn how to drive on the wrong side of the car and the wrong side of the bloody road, surrounded by fecking eejits.

And then work kicks off big style. It would do, this week, wouldn't it? I've kind of been sitting on the sidelines up until now, like a spectator watching a really fast and scary ride at the fairground, such as the waltzer. Now I've suddenly been pushed onto the ride and getting spun round as fast as possible by the biggest, hairiest, tattoo-adorned gypsy you've ever seen. Wa-hey! This is fun! You see, the jobs over here are just immense. All these piddly little buildings back in the UK I used to work on are just small fry, like the kiddies rollercoaster shaped like some Caterpillar with a drugs habit. This work is like the Oblivion and the Nemesis at Alton Towersrolled into one, followed by a kick in the bollocks by Roy Keane for good measure. You stop to look at the figures on the page, and realise that you're shuffling around 100s of millions of pounds. Best not to think too much about it, really.

So, onwards and upwards. I just hope to the heavens above that my health holds out here. My heart arrhythmia has had a couple of moments so far, but I think I know how to control it. The downside is, I can't drink too much. The upside is, it will save me money. But then again, maybe it won't. I'll just eat more. Friday brunch tomorrow! Yippee!