Was received at airport by The Fairmont chauffeur in 7 series Beemer with car gliding in as we walked out. Woman and self much impressed.
Hotel is all right if a bit dated. All lights and smoke and mirrors. Got weary of the super duper breakfast spread, the extensive menu and the concierge service in all of 24 hours.
After refreshing ourselves, Woman and I had lunch. A very big lunch. A very salty lunch. (Dubai Restaurant Reminder #1: Ask for less salad dressing, half portion servings and low salt options. #2: Do not feel guilty about leaving behind food when portions are unwieldy).
Visited M and Baby A in their residence. They live in the Greens, a nice ‘family’ area with plenty of trees, a not so bad view and a decent gym. Baby A is a rock-star, gets friendly but doesn’t grant smiles easily. Quite curious about world at large. My beard in particular. M has put in a word with their concierge for apartments coming up in their building.
Went for a walk by small lake (all water bodies/ gardens in Dubai are artificial, so let’s not get all snotty about the provenance of ‘lake’ now), encountered lady in abaya who gave a smile and said ‘Salaam Aleykum’ but as G would have observed did not move out of the way. Apparently you move out of their way and not vice versa. GT’s cultural adventures… sigh. Sat down at a café and had a Love Juice while Woman had something else tastier. Ordered roast aubergine something. Super salty again. Also bitter. Quickly grab her drink to wash away taste. Ali messages, explaining what happens when certain parts of human anatomy are removed. Can always depend on him to stir up things after bad dinners.
Made mistake of peeking at Baby A who promptly started bawling. Despite Indian-doggy tested tummy tickle and Indian-baby tested coochy-coos, refuses to calm down. So take her and start dancing around. Hunky and bulky Mediterranean man with European girlfriend give strange looks. Woman and M start yakking away happily.
After 20 minutes of see-sawy dancing and walking around to different hums and twitches, Baby A falls asleep. So do my biceps. Manage to fob off sleeping bundle to Woman but bundle comes to life and bawls. Thankfully not in my hands now. Woman does some magic and Baby A goes back to sleepyland in 5 minutes flat. But M says to Woman, ‘Keep holding her. If you try to put her in the pram, she’ll wake up’. Woman says ‘She’s a bit heavy’. M insists, ‘Hold her, its only a short distance and you’ll be fine’. Woman laughs awkwardly. M reassures her, ‘You can do it’. Am I glad I managed to dump bundle onto Woman. Phew.
Back to M’s home and then after besos all round, back to hotel. Promptly fall asleep on arrival. Wake up groggily after 2 hours to say bye to Woman. Go to airport. Wondering what level of body contact would be appropriate. After a while, decide to screw all considerations. It’s bloody sad and sobby farewell, people. Somehow it’s manageable. No sobs, no cries, no loud ululations or lamentations. We manage a decent, dignified ‘see you soon’ with hugs and kisses and tightly grasped hands. Touchy feely score in region of 75%. Keep waving to Woman as she leaves. She unleashes a flying kiss. I return it. Then wonder if security will arrest me. Look around. Two bulky boys in uniform giving me dirty looks. Shivers, shivers. Decide to stick to exuberant and passionate waves, rather than kisses. Wave to her as she crosses security. Wave to her as she wanders towards Departures. And finally, Wave to her as she boards escalator. Such are the mores of global couples. Bah.
Back to hotel and pop in antibiotics and Paracetomol and allow oneself to be knocked out by chemicals, sadness and general fatigue. Welcome to Dubai.
1 comment:
karan johar just rolled up his sleeve. you will be blamed when this comes out.
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