Dubai - Higher Than I Have Ever Been

It is well known that I do not do towers. Tom loves them, but a fear of heights, or what I like to call vertigo, so much more exotic, usually leaves me at ground level while he heads up a set of winding, precarious steps to see the view from some gothic structure.  I am very happy waiting for him below, sitting and sipping coffee, or better still, shopping. When we travel my family do not even ask anymore if I plan to join them on various climbs. I feel sick in the glass walled elevator at Forest Hill shops!

So how did he talk me into it?  Well, this is Dubai, and the Burj Khalifa is the tallest building and structure in the world.  At 830 metres it is 200 metres higher than Mt Dandenong!  But what sold me was the fact that you can do the building in a high speed elevator that takes only seconds to take you the 124 floors to the viewing station and apparently you hardly feel like you are moving.  Many weeks ago I chatted with work colleague Phil, who spent six months in Dubai, about what to do while here and he highly recommended the view from Burj Khalifa at sunset.  What we did not know then was that this week is Eid al-Adha, the Feast of the Sacrifice, and Dubai is packed with people enjoying the festival, so when we went to book online for a sunset viewing we should not have been surprised to find it booked-out.  What did surprise is that it was booked-out all day, from 7.00am.  Always looking for an opportunity Tom decided this left the door open for the alternative option - sunrise. So we set the alarm for 5.00am and headed out after a hasty shower and no breakfast to greet the sun.  The lift ride was, as promised, quick and I hardly felt any movement.  We joined many other early risers on the viewing platform and gasped audibly like everyone else when the first sliver of sunrise peaked over the horizon.  

Sunrise from the Burj Khakifa

Eid al-Adha 

The origins of this important Islamic festival are biblical and relate to the story of Abraham who was asked by Allah to sacrifice his most treasured possession, his only son.  Abraham submitted to Allah's will and offered up his son for sacrifice, but Allah is merciful and at the last minute substituted an animal for the son.  And from this story Muslims have developed the tradition of sacrificing a goat or sheep to commemorate Eid al-Adha.  One of the less known traditions linked to this Eid is the importance of wearing new clothes - I have no idea where this tradition sprung from but I can assure it is one that Dubai's shopping culture has latched onto.  The shopping centres have extended shopping hours, with the Dubai Mall, the one with the aquarium in the middle, being open 24 hours.  And I have been making sure that we have been getting maximum value out of the extended shopping hours. 

The aquarium in the Dubai Mall

5 ***** luxury

We have stayed in some great accommodation on this holiday, a central Parisian apartment, a French chateau, lovely old villas in Spain and Morocco, an ancient Pyrenees fort and a boat on the Costa Brava.  And now in Dubai we are staying in 5 star luxury.  The Radisson is a peg or two down from some of the hotels in Dubai, but it is pretty schmick and, while it does not have the charm or character of some of the smaller establishments we have been in, we are enjoying all the facilities of a modern hotel.  

I have only one complaint.  The scales in our room seem to be wrong - I can't possibly have put on five kilos in five weeks.  Can I ?

The city from "The Top"

I Am From Barcelona

We are in Barcelona, home of Gaudi, Barcelona FC star Lionel Messi and Manuel, the Fawlty Towers waiter who coined that famous phrase.

Barcelona is big, vibrant and modern.  The city celebrates the arts and sport, so both Tom and I are happy.  The Olympic village, from the 1992 games (who can forget Sarah Brightman singing Amigos para siempre ?  I wish I could) still stands proudly over the city.  Barcelona manages to be ancient and elegant as well as modern and edgy.  The old bull ring exemplifies the city:  the Catalans eschew bull fighting, a Southern Spanish indulgence, and they have converted their bull ring into a modern shopping mall with trendy restaurants and rooftop promenade.  

Detail from a Gaudi design in Barcelona

We have had the privilege of seeing a little of Barcelona through the eye of locals: family friends of Jan & Dave who have made Barcelona their home, having made the move here 10 years ago.  They live in an apartment in central Barcelona and for their young daughters Spain is really the only home they have known.  We enjoyed Sunday lunch on their terrace, a luxury only a minority of the city's population enjoy.  Barcelona residential prices are high, on par, or higher, than overpriced Melbourne.  Because almost all the city residents live in apartments there are many parks and squares and people live a large proportion of their lives in these respites and the many bars and cafes.  Families are seen out strolling and chatting until well into the night, including the children.  I was given a tour of the apartment, which was typically small, but well appointed.  No lift, so everything, groceries, water, prams and children are all carried up and down the stairs.  However, when the living area French doors were throw open to reveal the balustraded balcony overlooking the quaint square the charm of the urban European city experience became obvious.  I was ready to sell up my Melbourne house and move straight in.

Barcelona is a big and crowded city

We are just home from our last Spanish dinner - tapas in a Basque tapas bar.  This was a tapas bar where they bring around dishes and you select what you want - just like yum cha.  All the tapas pieces are held together by a tooth pick and at the end of the meal you pay according to the number of toothpicks on your plate.  Excellent food, and I have marked the last two epicurean must-dos from my list; sangria and Catalan cream, a type of creme brulee. Metro home and now to bed before flying to Dubai tomorrow.

View of Barcelona looking toward Mont Jusic

Just on the Barcelona metro - Tom intends to write to Dr Napthine on his return home.  It is incredulous that in Melbourne we are still travelling on infrastructure that belongs to the Victorian era.  We got the metro home tonight around 11.30pm and the wait time for our train, having arrived at the station as one was leaving, was 4.39 minutes!

The Pyrennes

Until now the Pyrenees to me were just a place that Phil Ligget rabbits on about in the Tour de France.  Now I have been I understand why he waxes lyrical about their beauty.  The mountains are heavily forested at the lower levels we have been driving through (around the 1000 metre mark), with the distant higher mountains in the background revealing their rocky outcrop.  The Pyrenees are lush and verdant, and dotted with picturesque mountain villages and some splendid medieval towns.

Staying in the Parador

For our night in the Pyrennes we stayed in the Cardona Parador.  The Paradors are a state run hotel chain, mostly of castles, convents, fortresses and other historic buildings.  Franco had the idea to preserve some old monuments by turning them into hotels.  Cardona was important from Roman times because of the deposits of rock salt, and salt mining continues today. The original fortress dates from around the 880s and was established by the intriguingly named Wilfred the Hairy, Count of Barcelona.  I must confess to never having heard of Wilfred before now, but he is a big name in the region, being founder of the House of Barcelona, the forerunner of modern day Catalonia.  Wilfred is also remembered for being the founder of hereditary passage of titles.  

As to be expected the fortress is high on a hill overlooking the valley below and the hotel is in the medieval castello.  Of course it is exquisite. 

Our drive through the Pyrennes brought us to Barcelona, and along the way we encountered a bicycle tour.  We stopped the car on the road side and enthusiastically clapped the contenders along their way, feeling just like Phil Ligget commentating the Tour de France.

Homage To Catalonia

We are in the region of Catalonia, made famous by George Orwell's book and the more recent Woody Allen movie, Vicky, Christina, Barcelona.  

Homage to Catalonia is Orwell's recount of his experience fighting with the Anarachists, or possibly the Socialists, during the Spanish Civil War.  This is a book I have started before, and am re-reading as we travel through the region.  Notice I said 'started before', not read before.  It is a book I have always struggled with - the description of the internal conflict between the Repulican forces is difficult to follow and not an easy read.  It is reminiscent of the Life of Brian sketch where Brian naively thinks the Romans are the enemy, but it is explained to him that the splitter group, the Judean People's Front is the true enemy of the people. It is the same with the various political groups and trade union organisations that should have bonded together to fight Franco - but they were too busy arguing amongst themselves.  

Girona in Northern Catalonia

Catalonia takes in the north east region of Spain, bordering France at the Pyrenees, taking in the main city of Barcelona, as extending south to Valencia  We think of Spain as a nation, like France or the UK, however it operates more as a federation of states.  The French and British nations formed from earlier medieval states into the strong central countries we know today.  Spain federated much later and continues to have five official languages and a number of additional recognised languages. Today many regions in Spain favour autonomy, or even separation, from the rest of Spain, the most radical of these being the Basque region and the Basque separatist group ETA was responsible for a campaign of violence which only abated very recently.  Catalonia, or Catalunya as it is known in the local Catalan language, is fiercely proud of being Catalan and not Spanish.  The Catalan language is widely spoken in the region and education is now provided principally in Catalan.  It is not a quaint oddity like Welsh - they are serious about making it the principal language in the area.  We were given a menu in a tapas bar which was entirely in Catalan - no Spanish translation provided.  Of the dozen dishes described on the menu I could probably recognise as many words - the language is that different.  It didn't really matter, we just picked randomly and it was all lovely.

The Catalan flag flies proudly from many homes and official buildings, including from many churches, and there are serious calls for separation.  However, today in Barcelona there was a major rally held to show support for Spain thousands of Catalans demonstrated their opposition to the separatist movement.  It became a struggle of tactics.  The pro-Catalans got wind of the upcoming rally and got to the designated square early in the morning, before the pro-Spanish, and set up breakfast stalls to negate the planned rally !  One thought is that when it comes to the crunch separation would not go ahead because if Catalonia goes it alone then Barcelona FC would then not have a national league to play in and the Catalans will not accept that.

A Catalonian flag hangs from a restaurant.

Laundry - Lavarie - Lavandaria

In prepartion for this trip Tom and I visited the Monet's Garden exhibition in Melbourne in August. After enjoying the exhibition we sat in a Southbank bar over looking the Yarra sipping a beverage and chatting excitedly about the upcoming trip.  Tom looked at me earnestly and expressed his concern with our trip planning, saying that he was worried that in our schedule we had not left enough time for ...  Oh no, thought I.  What is coming ?  We already had a very tight schedule of sights - what could he possibly be thinking at this very late time that we should add to our trip.  So he went on to explain his concern - ... we have not left enough time to do any laundry.  For a moment, just a moment, I shared his concern before laughing hysterically and assuring him that we would be sure to find time to launder our clothes.

I apologise to those of you who have already heard that story, but I know that many of you who have will want to know how we have fared and be reassured that Tom has not spent too much holiday time worrying about the laundry.  Firstly, our thanks to our friend Robyn who sent along some White King stain removal wipes for us to bring on this trip.  They have proved very helpful - and have the dual purpose of helping remove the red stain my feet acquire when it rains, and my red leather shoes leach dye onto my skin.

Paris

We had a washing machine in the apartment so laundry here was easy.  Especialy after we learned to remove the toaster from the top of the machine in the spin cycle - it only had to fly off once and land on the floor we us to make that minor modification.  Luckily, it was only as we were leaving this accommodation that I read the notice that said the washing machine was not for use by the guests.

Brittany

Our Breton gites was in a holiday resort which had a good laundry with coin operated machines.  It even had coin operated dryers, and after I lost several Euros on the dryers I got chatting to a nice English guest who explained to me what I was doing wrong.  And once she showed me how to use the ON button it was all good.

Spain

In southern Spain no coin laundromats are to be found, so we located one of those lovely places that washes, dries and folds a load of washing, all on the same day, for some ridiculously low price.  We dispensed with the idea of having clothes washed in Marrakech and waited until we got to our apartment here in the marina on the north coast, as we have a machine the apartment.  Terrific.  It had been a few days so I had a big load to put on.  The machine looked simple enough - just a choice of program and an on-off button.  Yes, I was concerned when after two hours it still had not moved from the wash cycle to rinse/spin, but hey these European machines are slow.  After three hours washing, and lots more button pushing it was still washing, but I was exhausted and went to bed.  By two in the morning I was getting worried the clothes would be torn to shreds and I gave Google a try to see if I could find any manuals.  No manuals - but I found some interesting user reviews, the first three of which informed me that the machine was a lemon and the worst washing machine they had ever owned.  Bugger !  I managed to turn the machine off and thought I would try another program,  After setting this off I went back to bed.  8.00am the next morning - yes, still on the wash cycle !  In the end we restorted to manually resetting the machine through rinse and spin, which I believe is how semi-automatic washing machines worked when I was a little girl.  And, after almost 12 hours of washing, Tom and I have really, really clean jeans !

A Parisian Laundromat

Cruising The Costa Brava

Feeling oh so Jackie Onassis!

It started when the flight landed at Girona airport and we alighted the airplane steps onto the tarmac.  I just love tarmac boarding - so 1960's jet set.  I always want to stop on the stairs and give a little wave.

We drove up the Spanish north coast to the massive Empuriabrava marina where Jan & Dave have their boat, Arion, moored. Arion was the son of Poisiden and he enjoyed the finer things in life, good food, clothes and music.  He incurred the wrath of a sea captain who threatened to throw him into the sea.  Arion convinced the evil sea captain to let him jump into the sea instead, and when he did so the dolphins sprang from the water and rescued him.

So now we are on the boat, nestled in a little cove and I feel that all I need is the Hermes scarf and the big glasses and I would be Jackie.

Costa Brava is Spanish for rugged coast, and parts of the coast are indeed very rugged, which means that the area is full of remote coves and isolated beaches.  The Mediterranean is still pleasant and the water was a swimmable 21 degrees, mild enough for a swim and snorkel off the boat, followed up by picnic lunch onboard.  

Bananas

Jan & Dave do not follow what I had thought was a universal nautical rule of banning bananas on boats.  In fact, they had never heard of this fisherman's superstition, and they often enjoy a banana on their boat.  Fishermen hold the belief that bananas on boats are bad luck and no fish will be caught if a banana is present on board.  I have heard of some who go so far as to ban Banana Boat sunscreen. Where does this strange superstition stem from ? There are many stories, but the most credible is that in the 1700s the boats bringing bananas to market had to travel very fast, before the cargo deteriorated.  The crew threw lines overboard but the boats were travelling too fast to catch any fish - hence the belief that the bananas brought bad luck. And by the way, Dave reports he never catches any fish - time to ban the bananas ?

The Yves Saint Laurent Connection

With only the morning to spend in Marrakech before our afternoon flight we decided to visit the Majorellle Gardens. We headed out with lowish expectations as an earlier expedition to the supposedly splendid Menara Gardens turned out to be a visit to some gardens that are now just a shadow of their previous glory.  However the Majorelle Gardens did not disappoint, and these gardens turned out to be an oasis in the bustling city.  Tom claimed that he had carefully planned these visits, saving the best for last and building up our expectations slowly.

Lily pads in the Majorelle Garden

The gardens are the work of the early twenty century painter after which they are named.  He opened them to the public in 1947 and in the 1980's the property was purchased by Yves Saint Laurent, hence the link to YSL. Saint Laurent was born in Algeria to French parents and retained a connection to north Africa throughout his life.  He restored the property and gardens and spent much time there finding solace and inspiration.  Before his death YSL established a trust with the aim of preserving cultural heritage and this trust runs the gardens today and the museum displaying Berber culture which is open in the gardens.  YSL's ashes are spread in the garden where I noticed the French tourists in particular are very respectful at the memorial. I paid suitable homage.

The YSL Memorial

Berbers

The Berbers are the original inhabitants of the north Africa area and the museum informed us that the Berbers were democratic, yet warmongering.  The Berbers have mixed with the Arabs since the Arabs arrived in this part of the world, and have been both Jewish and then later Muslims. They are found mostly in the Atlas Mountains, the divide that runs north to south down the middle of Morocco, and the Sahara desert is found east beyond the range.  

The Berber Museum in the garden

Every encounter is an opportunity

The Moroccans maximise the opportunity to earn a quid. Take the taxi driver today who agreed to our one stop fare, but then began adding sights he could take us to (including a good shop) and then refused our fare when we would not agree.

Modernisation has helped created wealth but it is still a desperately poor country, with young children on the streets selling anything, tissues, water, and cigarettes, which can be purchased by the single cigarette - in a poor country that is probably all some people can afford.  It is very tempting to purchase from the small children, but to do so only encourages the practice and the ongoing temptation to take them out of school to earn.

My venture into a jewellery stall started out innocently enough with the standard 'where are you from', and the stall holder began telling us of his Berber origins and his village in the mountains.  We showed genuine interest as he launched into his spiel and began showing us a coffee table book with panoramic photographs of the Atlases. As our interest peeked he launched with his punch line, and I do tours to my village madam.  But he was harmless, and extremely charming - so what could I do but purchase the torquise necklace I had been admiring.  Really, it would have been rude not to.