Driving 202

Driving 202

Having mastered driving around town by the end of the first week I decided it was time to take the plunge (so to speak) and attempt a drive out onto the open road - aka highway.

First stop was the Dubai Outlet Mall for a spot of shopping with Mr 19.  Having been hounded by his younger brother to smarten himself up I found myself on a shopping spree looking for known brands such as Billabong, Timberland & Converse.  Smart pants, several new shirts, and a pair of suede Timberland boots later we’re done.

This time I ‘borrowed’ the GPS and navigating there was easy.  Pity I can’t say the same about the return trip which had me driving on a truck road half way to Al Ain.  Still, we finally made it home.  The problem here and particularly in Dubai is that the roads are changing nearly daily so it’s difficult for any GPS to keep up with them.

As Mr 19 isn't impressed by the opulence and wealth of Abu Dhabi, after the normal sightseeing around town, including the Grand Mosque, Emirates Palace, The Corniche, and many malls it was out to the outback for a taste of the desert.

So the three of us head out on a desert safari.  I invited some friends of ours to join us so we met up down at the nearby mall to find a small bus awaiting us.  The bus fills up and we head off out west.  After driving for around 1 and ½ hours we take a side road and head towards the sand dunes.

What surprised me was even out here there were bus loads of workers.  Where they were going I don’t know as there didn’t appear to be anything around.  Another surprise, unpleasant, was the amount of rubbish on the roadside once we got into the dunes.  Even barbed wire littered the roadside at regular intervals.  It wasn’t an appealing sight for my first encounter with the ‘desert’ and a much better impression would be formed by cleaning this up.  Where all the rubbish came from, I don’t know.

We arrive at our camp and pile out to be greeted by Emirate men.  The camp is well set up with cushions, toilets and low tables for eating off.  We are welcomed then served Arabian coffee and dates by one of the men.  Unlimited softdrinks and bottled water await us in a fridge so we are well catered for.

After refreshing ourselves we pile into 4-wheel drive vehicles for the ‘dune bashing’.  The driver races us up and down dunes then we stop to take pictures and run down sandhills.  It was an exhilarating ride with enough sense of danger of tipping over to have you hanging on tightly.

After the stop we pile back in.  My friend can’t get her seatbelt to work so the driver hops out to help.  Not working - no problem he says and off we go with her holding onto their toddler.  Bang!  We hit the ground running and bounce off our seats.  Of course she hits her head and is nearly concussed.  The baby is crying, the driver is apologising and she is badly hurt.   So we limp back to camp without any further ado.  He keeps saying his brakes ‘no good’ as he gets out to retrieve part of the car!             

Having arrived back there is an array of activities to partake of.  The boys pay to ride 4-wheeler motorbikes while I opt for the more leisurely camel ride.  I try sand surfing which doesn’t seem to work for any of us.

Meanwhile Mr 19 starts a korero with our driver who then calls over the boss man in the suit, then the lady organiser.  Mr 19 calls his bro over then ‘nex minute’ they are off on another stint in a different vehicle.  Seems they didn’t think they got value for money and he managed to talk them into taking them out again.  They had a great time and pulled out one of the others cars which was stuck.

It turns out our driver’s brakes had failed so we were very lucky really.

We are treated to a Falcon display at sunset then it’s time to eat.  

We had a wonderful meal then sweet Arabic tea was served over a campfire.  I’d almost forgotten the smokey taste of billy tea. 

It was a great experience, although ours was a family camp so we didn’t get the shisha or belly dancing experience.

                         

Next outing on the agenda is a trip further out west to Liwa.  So hiring the car again, I book a night at the Tilal Liwa Hotel.  A twin room for the boys and a double for me.  Then the teenager decides he isn’t coming so I book two doubles and cancel the twin room.  I was lucky to get the rooms as the hotel was full due to the Camel Festival just ending and the Moreeb Sand Dune week beginning.

The Moreeb Sand Dune is reputedly the tallest sand dune in the world and there were all sorts of activities happening.  Our night coincided with the camel racing so it sounded like fun.

First issue was I’d booked for New Years Day.  Oops!  Not the best idea when boys are only rocking home at 5am and I’m trying to head out at 11am.  So Mr 19 duly piles into the car with his bag and sleeps the whole way there.

Not knowing what to expect on the road (even the rental car man had said, “Good luck Madam!”) I make my way onto the road leading towards Saudi Arabia.  My friend lives out there so I’ve heard many reports from her about the crazy Saudi drivers so was a bit prepared.  The road is only two lanes each way and trucks take up the first lane.  And I mean trucks.  I’ve never seen so many trucks in my life.  All going the same way on the same road.  And loaded to the hilt.  They’d never be allowed on the road back in NZ.  How many Toyota utes do they need in Saudi?  Or how many Toyota Landcruisers?  All of them white.  Obviously plenty.

Anyway, I found the road to be okay, probably because at home in NZ we have to contend with trucks with only one lane.  Here I had my own lane to speed in.  And speed I did.  Or thought I did until I looked in my rear view mirror to see a white 4 wheel drive just about to ram me.  Luckily I was able to pull into the truck lane and away they sped.  Now if I was doing 160kms what were they doing?  That day I discovered that 180-200kms per hour seems to be the cruising speed for drivers to Saudi.

                                                                                   

I turned off onto the road to Liwa and found I had a four-lane highway just about to myself.  I’m very surprised that I didn’t get any speeding tickets as I flew.

We arrived at the Tilal Liwa hotel to see the remnants of the Camel Festival being packed up.  I may try to go to it next year as it is a big event. 

Second issue - no booking!  Oops!  I’d cancelled my booking and rebooked at the Liwa Hotel, another 60kms further on.  I’m sure I don’t need to say that Mr 19 thinks I’ve lost my marbles by this stage.  I hadn’t printed out the booking thinking that my Iphone will be enough with it on there.  

Lesson no 2 - print out your bookings!  I thought I was lucky that both rooms were at the same hotel...

So we take our suitcases and hop back into the car and fly the rest of the way, further into the desert.  But not before I rang them to check I was booked there.  See, I’m learning.

Arriving at our hotel Mr 19 heads for his room while I explore.  We have a pool and a camel on the front lawn.  We opt for a buffet evening meal and an early night, ready to hit the sand dunes in the morning. 

The good point was that the second hotel was much closer to the Moreeb Dunes so we set out around 11am after a substantial breakfast which was included in the price.  The road up to the dunes was familiar to me as it was windy and two lanes only, not two each way.  Just like driving at home.  Having said that drivers were often on the wrong side of the road, obviously they are not used to only having one lane. 

We were out in the desert proper now with trains of camels and road signs for crossing camels.  The dunes were magnificent and mostly appeared untouched.  We arrived at Moreeb to find a mini town all set up with camping sites, motorbike hire, race track, markets and the huge dunes set up for racing.  Unfortunately, nothing was happening until late afernoon so our timing was out.   Like anything here it’s difficult to find out anything in advance but now I have inside information about the Camel Festival and the Moreeb Sand Dune Festival.  I’d love to go out there and camp sometime.

Mr 19 drove until we reached the main truck road then I drove again.  It was interesting to hear his perspective on driving here - he hated it as you have cars coming at you in town from all directions and you don’t know if they are going to hit you, plus they are all going so fast.  His advice was to use taxis - he loved the convenience and low cost of these - and said he wouldn’t have a car here.  Who wants to be hitting a Porsche or Lamboughini?

The opportunity to get out into the desert was wonderful and now I know that the driving isn’t as daunting as I was led to believe, I’d go again.

I kept the rental car until I’d dropped Mr 19 at the airport for his long return flight to New Zealand.  He was lucky that he scored an exit seat on the return flight, allowing him some extra leg room.

It was sad to see him leave after a wonderful three weeks.

Arrivals

Arrivals

Having finished entering all the assessment data at work ready for reports, I was ready for a break and the next three weeks were eagerly anticipated.

The 19 year old son was due to arrive on the 15th December (or so I thought) so I duly hire a rental car in preparation of picking him up.  The teenager was out for the night so was meeting me at the airport for a 5.30am arrival.  So at 4am I’m up when I get a call from the teenager to see where I am as he’s there already.  Now that’s a first!  So I rush into the shower, throw on some clothes and head downstairs to my car park.  Off I go, so clever in my driving skills and knowledge of the roads.

I’m heading out and see the signs to the Presidential Flight but no airport signs (disregarding the plane symbol next to the Presidential Flight) so continue driving.  The airport is a fair way out so I carry on, and on, and on.  Until I reach Shahama!  Now, having been to Dubai once, I know that we went through Shahama.  Oops!  I should have used my friends GPS that she left in her car.  But it’s 4.30am and me and trucks galore are on the road.  So I phone the teenager and wail, “I’m lost!”

I won’t repeat the conversation but needless to say it wasn’t complimentary, especially at that time of the morning with a non-morning teenager who’d probably had no sleep.

The trouble with the roads here is if you miss a turn you literally drive ½ way to Dubai.  But I was already there so had visions of being in Dubai before finding an exit.  Should have booked that Emirates flight to Dubai after all.

So I pull over to the side of the road to think.  I consider flagging down a passing taxi (too slow) or banging on the window of a nearby parked truck to awake the sleeping driver (not a good idea in the middle of nowhere at 4.30am).  Unsure of my next move I drive slowly on and take an exit into Shahama then quickly u-turn as I realise it’s going to take me miles away.  I continue on the highway and spy an overhead so without any idea of where I’m going I take the exit and drive over the road and turn back to whence I had come.  I figured if I was heading back the other way I’d be okay.  And I was.  After a bit of driving I see signs (Yes, actual signs) saying Abu Dhabi International Airport.  What a relief.  Did I mention they also said Presidential Flight?  Oh well, live and learn.  I arrive at the airport and park at Terminal 3, thinking I’m very clever as I’ve parked there before when flying out in July.  I walk up to the terminal and phone the teenager who informs me I need to be at Terminal 1 and to move the car!  Mmmmm!  Not really my morning is it?  So I pay to exit the carpark and drive down to the outside parking by Terminal 1, duly getting another ticket for parking.

All up I’m inside the terminal at arrivals with the teenager by 5.30am so I think I did pretty well, all things considered.  We grab a coffee at the handy Starbucks and are literally first to the barrier to wait.  The flight had arrived early so I don’t expect to wait too long.  Finally a few stragglers arrive with bags.  It was so easy to spot the travelers from Australia as they arrived in shorts and jandals whereas the next flight from Europe were dressed in jeans, boots, thick jackets and beanies.  So we waited, and waited, and waited.  By 7am the teenager is chomping at the bit to get home.  We try Mr 19's phone but of course that is switched off like a good traveler.

Eventually the teenager goes over to the inquiry desk and comes back to tell me that I’ve got the wrong day.  Eeekkkk!  Don’t even start!!!!

MR 19 was flying on the 15th but wouldn’t arrive here until the following day.  Which makes perfect sense but why they don’t put that date on the itinerary I don’t know.  So after checking that he is actually on the plane, which had just left Christchurch, we head home.  The teenager heads to bed, muttering something under his breath, I’m sure.  I get the GPS out of my friends car, ready for tomorrow.

Next morning we repeat the process, leaving later from home and taking Airport Road, under the teenager’s directions.  He knows the area well as his school is right by the airport.  So we arrive without any mishaps and I get a park at Terminal 1, close to the entrance.  I’m a pro now, right?  The flight arrives and Mr 19 appears, smiling and I even get a wave in response to mine, carrying his one carry on bag.  I’ve taught them well.

We head home via the scenic route through town and the beach to show Mr 19 the sights.  He is overawed by the tall buildings and the size of the cranes.  Remembering Mr 19 works in Christchurch driving trucks as part of the rebuilding of the city after the earthquake so is familiar with heavy machinery.  But he’s never seen anything like this.  Of course we’re old hands now and used to the sight of 60 story high cranes.

Home to a cooked breakfast, a coffee and a well earned catchup then a snooze for us all.

Moral of the story - Take your friends up on their offers of GPS, check flight dates more than once, always have plenty of petrol in your car and plenty of credit on your phone!