Dubai--Getting There

And now for Dubai...I am slowly making my way through my blog backlog to the present. I am now writing about what I did in the middle of November. Combine the travel (hurray!) with graduate school applications (not so much) with more nannying (I am almost their primary caregiver which is not quite what I signed up for) and perhaps I may be excused for getting so behind.

Anyway, Eva went to Dubai with some friends back in July. She enjoyed the trip and came back determined to change our November destination from the Canary Islands (where they have been before) to Dubai. Both places are about 5 hour flights from Prague.

So on November 11 we headed to the airport at 7am, with Baby, Lukas, Honzik, Eva, Grandmother, Grandmother’s friend-who-is-sort-of-an-aunt-to-Eva, and little ol’ me. Everyone piled into the van, but as I was climbing in I was told to get in the car behind the van. So I rode to the airport with some guy, following the van with everyone else. A little strange. But I try to appreciate any quiet, non-children moments, so I sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the ride. After I told the driver I don’t speak Czech (which, along with “I don’t understand” and “I don’t know” is my most common Czech phrase) he turned up the radio and left me alone.

Oh, but the quiet did not last for long. I was dreading the whole travelling thing. I wasn’t too worried about the older boys, but I was afraid the baby would be fussy or straight out screamy, and that it would be up to me to make him happy. That was the case in the airport, but at least in the airport you can walk around and watch the airplanes. So he was calm and happy. We met a little Czech girl who was going to Dubai, too, and so she played with us for a while.

Then the plane started boarding. I kept waiting for the “Passengers with small children or others requiring assistance please begin boarding” call, but evidently they don’t do that on the airline we were flying. (A Czech company). Instead, it was a boarding free-for all. Which normally I wouldn’t mind but we had so many bags and so many children and the stroller, so trying to juggle the baby and his gear while loading the overhead bins while people glared at you for standing in the aisle was not much fun.

I was surprised but quite relieved when Eva sat the baby on her lap instead of mine. During the five hour flight I drew with Honzik, on my right, and fed the baby his yogurt on my left. I supplied Cheerios and toys and books, and my tray table became the communal desk. The baby was actually better than I thought he would be.

Don't get the wrong idea: Baby and I are good buddies now. I really enjoy being with him, and he seems quite fond of me. But he is happiest when we have lots of space and lots of different things to do. Traditionally, he has not been very cheerful when he is confined in small spaces. (But is anyone?) He screamed a little and writhed a bit trying to get comfortable, but it was not the nightmare I had envisioned. Still though, I am not anxious to fly with him again. (Though if I could find a way to bring him home with me for Christmas I totally would.)

Anyone desiring children, particularly young people, ought to fly with some as a trial. I think the birth rate would go down.

When Baby was sleeping I was able to read a little and watch the monitor. No movies, but they did have the map showing our airplane making its SLOW progress East. Weird minutes when we passed almost directly (or so it seemed) over Baghdad. The little square in the bottom right corner is the United Arab Emirates.

We arrived! It was about 6pm local time when we got there. Then began some more fun. We had checked the stroller in the breezeway, and usually they bring that kind of thing right up to you after you get off the plane. But we were told that the stroller would be at baggage claim. So we got to carry Baby (he is 15 months old and dense) through the airport to visa control. I didn’t have to get a visa (yay for my American-ity!) but the Czech people did have to have one. It is very simple to get but you have to pay for it. So I waited while they proved that they could enter the country.

There are seven Emirates in the United Arab Emirates; Abu Dhabi is the capital and has a lot of oil. Dubai is an Emirate as well as a city, and it is the biggest city in the country. Our resort was actually in another Emirate, Ras al Khamaih, about one hour and a half from the Dubai airport. There is Abu Dhabi in the middle, Dubai a bit more north up the coast, and Ras al Khaimah more north from there.

Rather than take the bus that the travel company that Eva booked all this through provided, she had ordered two cars to take us to the resort. But something had gotten messed up so we had to wait for about 45 minutes.

At first we waited inside the arrivals area but then we thought our cars had arrived so we went outside. Where we waited for about thirty minutes, directly in front of all the cab drivers, tour guides, and people holding up signs waiting for passengers. All these people were men, most of them were dressed in non-Western garb (the variety of headdress and robe is astounding! The colors and styles can be very different.)

We got some stares. I had carefully packed for the journey, recognizing that because of my appearance (thanks, Minnesotan genes) I would stand out. I brought non-form-fitting shirts with long sleeves, my looser pair of jeans, and only a few pairs of stripper heels and backless minidresses.

I think a lot of this was in my mind because I was worried about it, but I did feel more exposed and conspicuous than usual. I did not feel threatened or anything, but the stares were more overt and lasted longer than at home, and even more than Italian stares. It is weird to stand next to women covered in burkas, with only their eyes showing...you feel very different and a bit immodest. (The variety of female dress is also amazing. More on that later.) Once I picked up the baby and his little shoe caught on my shirt hem and yanked it up a little. There may have been a flash of my tummy, just a flash, but I felt like I had committed some crime. Again, I think the majority of this was only in my mind. Dubai is very Western and there were people of all kinds in all kinds of clothes.

The cars finally arrived. I held Baby on the drive to the resort. Honzik and Lukas were in the backseat with me, and they kept hitting each other. I let a little of that go, but it does bug me. So between keeping them just a teeny bit non-violent, and keeping Baby happy, it was a busy ride. I had not thought of this before, but I guess when you travel you have to deal with not having car seats and things.

Unfortunately for my mental health, I had just seen a segment on the American news about how some seat belts can literally cut children in half in an accident since they aren’t made to protect little bodies. So I was trying to figure out a way to minimize that risk by wrapping my arms around the Baby and then putting the seat belt over them...and then I realized I was being crazy and needed to take a deep breath.

The dark terrain whooshing by the windows reminded me of driving through Palm Springs one night with my dad on our way to that horrendous National Field Hockey Festival. Our flight must have arrived in the evening and so we drove to our hotel in the dark. It looked the same...flat, a bit sandy, some palm trees, faint mountains, scattered lights, signs in English. The Emirates are quite American, especially Dubai. By that I mean there is a huge emphasis on consumerism and shopping and having the biggest and the tallest and the newest. Almost everyone seems to speak English. Some stores have the left side of their sign in English and the right side in Arabic, but some just have it in English.

We finally got there.

Ras al Khaimah is not quite as crazy-extravagant and wealthy as Dubai (or as wealthy as we all thought until a few weeks ago...yikes), but they are trying to emulate Dubai. This is the view from our hotel window. I have never seen so many cranes working at once. Until I went to Dubai, that is.

We drove up to the Hilton Ras al Khamaih and unloaded. I didn’t know this, but we were supposed to be at the Hilton Ras al Khaimah Resort and Spa, which is a beachfront, all-inclusive resort. The plain Hilton is just a nice hotel with a pool. No beach, but it is creek-front, I guess. Eva was furious. I just wanted to put the kids to bed and follow them in slumber. She argued with the people at the desk for a while, and found out that the Resort was overbooked but we could move there in two days.

Finally we got to go to our rooms. I was with Eva, Baby, and Lukas. On a lumpy cot. But I was so tired and so ready for that day to end that I went right to sleep.

Pardon my whining. It does get better.