On the Road

Today's run:

Temperature at start time (6.40am) 29C, temperature at finish, 34C with 53 per cent humidity.

Current temperature: 37C.

Distance covered today: 6.03km in 39mins48secs. Distance covered this week: Roughly 11km (Not v good but we've been a bit off this week).

Today's key running song: The Harder They Come  (no, not in that sense, disgusting child) by Jimmy Cliff.

Today's orange picture is not actually of Jack Kerouac's novel On the Road, but an amusing passport cover which was given to him indoors as a Christmas present by my Mum. A singularly appropriate passport cover, except of course these days when one is using one's passport, one usually ends up In the Air, but still. Witty.

We're getting near the stage where we actually have to start running longer distances if we're going to have a hope of being ready on time for the half marathon on October 18th, but 6km, (I think him indoors actually did 7.5km because he is mightier than me) isn't too bad with the heat the way it is, and, the fact that last night's preparation included drinking champagne at a work event. It actually wasn't too hot this morning, although it felt pretty nasty because of the 53 per cent humidity. Today has the feeling of a slightly malfunctioning steam room about it.

You'll notice a pattern here - that I keep saying we need to get up earlier in order to get the run in before the heat cranks up but and not actually doing it. In case you hadn't figured it out yet, mornings are not exactly our strong point. Luckily, there are two of us doing this, with two alarms going off, so, there's a combination of him setting his alarm ambitiously early, going straight back to sleep after it goes off, mine going off quarter of an hour later and dragging myself up 15 minutes after that. Then both of us eventually get out of the house an hour after that first alarm went off. The half marathon that we are entered for starts at 6am so practice getting up early is going to have to form part of our training at some point.

We are away for part of Ramadan this year, but, for the part of it that we are here, it will all go horribly wrong in terms of early morning runs unless we get up really quite incomprehensibly early. The reason for that is we can't take any water with us on morning runs during that time as eating or drinking in public during fasting hours is a big no no. For that period of time at least it will be evening runs only.

For those of you who are kind enough to read this far without having the slightest clue what I am on about, we are doing a half marathon on October 18th in aid of Myeloma UK. We chose this charity because my Mum has Myeloma. If you feel so inclined, you can read more in previous blog entries and sponsor us here. 

"I'm at a play, LOL"

Living abroad does something to you that I think I have talked about before on this blog, it makes you aware of your national identity. While foreigners going to London for the first time often complain that we Brits are an incredibly rude race, I tend to think that in actual fact we are a pretty well-mannered bunch.

For the none Brits among you, I promise you that it is the case that our young are taught that it is good manners to say please and thank you, give up your seat on public transport for someone who is older, pregnant or disabled, hold doors open for people who are in front of or behind us, say thank you at the end of a meal even if the food is terrible, compliment people on their home even if it is a flea-infested hell pit, let the other passengers off the train first when we are on London Underground, and most importantly, if there is a queue, we go to the back, we don't cut in half way down the line, or, heaven forbid, try to cut in the front, we wait our turn.

It can be a bit of a culture shock when you first move to Dubai and encounter for the first time the hundreds of different nationalities that live here, and the many for whom manners are less of a priority. The first place you notice this is on the roads. People cut you up in order to cut you up again, refusing to let you out when you're trying to merge and get across six lanes of traffic to join another road. They'll refuse to let you across even though they actually need to be in the lane on the other side of you, so it would be easier for everyone if they did, but no. Usually it is because they are talking on their hand-held phone and haven't remotely noticed you, something that is illegal here, but that is a law I have yet to see enforced in my two and a half years driving on Dubai roads.

Then, it's quite normal if someone is walking down a corridor or through a door in front of you to allow a door to slam into your face once they've passed through it. And, if you are getting out of a lift or out of a metro train, don't expect someone to wait for you to get out first, they will have barged in and pressed the button for the floor they want or pressed the button to close the metro carriage door before you have even had a chance to get out. The only way to avoid getting stuck is to barge out before they get the chance to barge you back in, or shout at the top of your voice: "Excuse me, I need to get out!" Sometimes, I feel positively wistful for the neat rows of commuters waiting either side of Tube carriage doors on London Underground stations for passengers on the train to get off first.

Then there's the cinemas. Oh God, the cinemas. Texting, checking Facebook and Twitter, checking your email, answering your phone and talking loudly, making a phonecall and talking loudly, chatting loudly with your friends, taking a small child with you who cries, chatters and babbles all the way through an 18 certificate film - these are all perfectly normal activities inside a UAE cinema. Unless you are at a mass market Hollywood blockbuster with a soundtrack loud enough to drown it all out, you can kiss goodbye to having an uninterrupted cinema-going experience while you're living in the UAE.

We recently ventured to the theatre for our first time in Dubai, to see an amateur production of A Midsummer Night's Dream at DUCTAC, and while it was not quite as bad as the cinema, there were some pretty interesting interpretations of theatre-going etiquette. People checking Facebook three times within the first 30 minutes of the start of the play, presumably to then update their status saying: "I'm at a play, LOL, OMG, so funny". Other transgressions included people walking in 20 minutes after the play had started without a millisecond of thought for the concentration of the actors and phones left switched on and ringing loudly part way through the performance.

And you know what the terrible thing about all this is? The great British dirty look and loud "Tut" has no effect on any of it whatsoever. You have to go beyond that and actually engage people in conversation, risking the potential calamity of a very non-British confrontation. There's the rub really, I'm harping on making it sound like us Brits are such a good mannered race, in actual fact, it may be that we do not enjoy being good mannered, we just do not want to be appear to be bad mannered. After all, if we could get away with jumping a queue without being seen to do it, we probably would, but being seen to do so would be caddish and mark us out as a bounder, and, worst of all, mean we may potentially experience the shame, which only a true Brit really understands, of being on the receiving end of the great British dirty look and "Tut". I'm blushing just thinking about it.

For the last day of Myeloma Awareness Week

Today is the last day of Myeloma Awareness Week so here is a picture of something orange. For my mum, who has Myeloma, and for Myeloma UK.

No, the something orange is not my tan, it is the scarf him indoors had to wear on his head when we went to the golden temple in Amritsar earlier this year, which you can read about, here. I am not that keen on having my picture taken, but may have it done from this angle from now on. What do you think?

All this, as you have probably worked out by now, is in aid of Myeloma UK and our half marathon attempt, which will take place in October. You can sponsor us, here. 

We went on a training run this morning, setting off at about 6.45am, I managed 5k, him indoors managed about 7k. It was ruddy hot. The current official temperature (I won't go into the differences between official temperatures and actual temperatures in Dubai again) is 34degreesC but it feels way hotter than that due to 38 per cent humidity. We did have an outdoor thermometer on our balcony but it appears to have melted internally and has ceased working. Not even joking. So, 34degrees my a***. We'll have to see if we can find a tougher thermometer from somewhere.

It is interesting to see how the levels of difficulty change the more you run. It used to be that muscle problems and bad knees were what stopped me, but these days the heat is the main issue. Running in it is straightforwardly quite horrid, and immediately after you stop, it's even worse. A sort of confusion comes over you, you feel sick, dizzy, like the worst hangover ever, due to dehydration, and hotter than when you were actually running. Luckily the feeling passes fairly quickly, particularly if you drink plenty of water.

So, it's important to remember why we're doing this, because of Myeloma, and the need to raise awareness of it (my Mum says quite often when she tells people she has Myeloma, they think she means she has skin cancer, Melanoma, which is a very different kind of cancer) and help fund research, improve treatment including earlier diagnosis rates and provide support to Myeloma patients and their families.

Myeloma is a strange condition, I would say is it is unusual rather than rare and it is hard to explain, but this film, which I hope you will forgive me for posting again, does a good job of that. Most people haven't heard of it, even though just over 4,700 people were diagnosed with it in the UK in 2010, according to Cancer Research UK, and in 2008, more than 103,000 people were diagnosed worldwide. It is slightly more common in men than women, and seven out of 10 cases are in people over 65, meaning it does sometimes end up being viewed as an "old people's disease". 

However, it is something that can happen to younger people, including my mum who was 60 when she was diagnosed and Cancer Research UK stats show that between 2007 and 2009, there were cases reported in people as young as 25. People in the public eye who have Myeloma include Candian/Indian actress and TV presenter Lisa Ray, who is 42, diagnosed in 2009 and BBC food journalist Sheila Dillon, diagnosed in 2011. 

Now that it is the last day of Myeloma Awareness Week, I will be bombarding you with orangeness a bit less, but if you can find a spare dirham, pound or dollar or two for our half marathon, which is on October 18th at Emirates Golf Club, then we would be hugely grateful.

Myeloma Awareness Week

Myeloma Awareness Week starts today, Friday 21st June, and as some of you will know already, him indoors and I are raising money for Myeloma UK by running a half marathon in Dubai on 18th October.

Here is our running kit:

The reason we're doing it is because my mum has Myeloma. The chances are, you won't know what it is unless you know someone who has it, so click here for a short film by Myeloma UK that explains it a lot better than I can. If you want to sponsor us, you can click here for our fundraising page.

Running chat is tedious beyond belief for people who aren't into it, but for those of you who like to pound the pavements, in case you're wondering, yes, it is rather hot to be training for a half marathon here in Dubai at this time of year. We went out this morning, and were at Safa Park Running Track by 6.40am with a plan to try to do 9km (we need to be running a bare minimum of 13km per week at this stage to be ready on time for October 18th) but we managed two circuits rather than the three required for that distance because it got somewhat too hot (it was 30degrees when we left the house, about 40ish by the time we got back). Today was the longest day of the year, so in theory, the sun being less high in the sky from now on should mean it's a bit cooler in the mornings, but we suspect we're going to have to get up about 5.30am, possibly 5am, to get a decent run in first thing in future. This isn't as desperate as it sounds as the race itself starts at 6am so it's good to be used to it.

A bit more about why I, and indeed him indoors, who has been roped into doing it without a single protest, are doing it. Well, when Mum got diagnosed just before Christmas 2009, it was one of the few times in my life I've felt truly helpless. The 1,000pounds we hope to raise isn't much in the scheme of things, I know, but if one person from the family of every new Myeloma patient (that's 4,000 per year in the UK by the way) does the same thing, that's got to make a difference, hasn't it?

If that is not enough to convince you, if you donate, I will post delicious pictures of us in our screaming orange Myeloma UK running shirts some time soon. Who wouldn't want to see that?

A decade of DCO

There can't be many of you that are not by now aware that Dubai Chamber Orchestra is playing its 10th anniversary concert tonight at Saudi German Hospital, such has been my fanatical promotion on social media in recent weeks.

I hope you will forgive me for the wall to wall coverage, but I am sure you are aware how difficult it can be to attract a 21st century audience, (who, after all, have access to any kind of music they want at a touch of a button, usually free of charge), to come out and see an amateur orchestra play. But, for those of you who do make the trip to Tecom tonight, I promise you it will be worth it.

I'm experiencing one of my rare sincere moments today, so, make the most of it, but as amateur orchestras go, DCO is pretty special. It is a group of  musicians who turn up weekly to get together and play - that's not so unusual as amateur orchestras go - some of the players make their living from music in one way or another, through teaching combined with playing, while others only took up their instruments recently and played their first live performance with the orchestra, which takes quite a lot of guts.

The difference from places where there is a long-established classical music scenes, is that DCO is a "chameleon orchestra" because it is an ensemble that adapts. Under the direction of Barnaby Priest, our conductor, music is chosen depending on the availability of players. This can be difficult due to the transient nature of Dubai, which is a majority ex-pat population, as players leave the Emirate to go home or move on to the next posting.

An indication of the turnaround of players is that at present, we have three of the original members who formed the group in 2003 out of a total of around 40 players, and for others, tonight will be their last concert as they are moving on to pastures new. 10 years of continuous music making, playing three concerts per year, is something worth celebrating in these circumstances and that's why we're making a big fuss of our 10th anniversary and have stepped up efforts to bring our music to a new and larger audience.

It has certainly been a challenge in some respects, for example, finding a suitable venue that would not charge us an arm and a leg to perform in it, (none of us get paid to play and entrance to our concerts is free so we have to rely on goodwill) but once people started pitching in with company sponsorship of programmes, official photographs, recording, filming, a special 10th birthday surprise, and, an unusual but lovely concert venue, it was clear that all was going to fall into place.

Here are a few more of my favourite pictures taken by Carl Wiebe of Katarat Ebda'a at one of our rehearsals. The concert poster with details is at the bottom. Hope to see you there.

Petrolhead Paradise

The UAE's  fixation with the automobile is something that has come up from time to time on this blog and there are various explanations that I have come up with for quite why the car is so important.

Perhaps it is a combination of a deep-seated psychological need for status symbols, weather which means getting around any other way except in the air conditioned comfort of your car is pretty miserable for three to four months of the year and subsidised fuel prices which, for example, mean filling up Kevin the Toyota costs about 12quid whereas I suspect it would be closer to 50 in the UK.

There is fixation, however, and then there is fanatical obsession, and that is certainly what afflicts HH Sheikh Hamad bin Hamdan Al Nahyan, whose private collection makes up the Emirates National Auto Museum.

It is safe to say that this is a man of big gestures and ambition. Known as "the Rainbow Sheikh" (this is in reference to nothing at all, he just likes them) he was the Sheikh who, you may remember, carved his name into the desert so big it was visible from space. I believe his name is no longer there. I can't find a link to support that now, but you get the picture.

I'm not someone who is particularly keen on cars, but I was riveted by this collection. The quantity under one roof is mind boggling enough, and it goes from the sublime:

To the ridiculous:

To the slightly more ridiculous. No, I have no idea for what possible reason you would need to do this to a 4X4 either:

And on, to, I don't know, as him indoors suggested, a car specifically designed to transport the members of Abba between desert concerts on their world tour:

One of the very nice things about the museum is the presentation which is done with a sense of humour. The paths between cars are painted to look like little roads, and you are greeted by this from the road as you arrive:

You can't really see the scale here, but trust me, it's a giant Land Rover.

Then there is what I've come to regard as the UAE's endearing obsession with breaking world records, in this case, the world's largest caravan:

Although, it hasn't moved for a while if the tyres are anything to go by:

I'll let the pictures do the rest of the talking. But really, these just scratch the surface of what the place is like. It is more than worth the trip. To get there, details are on the website which is linked earlier in this blog, but basically, from Dubai, go to Abu Dhabi, go past, head towards Liwa and keep going. You'll see the signposts from the road and the giant Land Rover means you can't miss it. If you do go, take plenty of water and make sure you have breakdown insurance because it's quite remote. The ticket office takes cash only, but if you forget to take any, the worker's camp down the road has a cash machine.

This pic doesn't show it but yes, there is the same model in every colour of the rainbow.

Extra feathers part (or pas de) deux

As some of you know, when the Sand Warlock is not piloting the broomstick or magic carpet or selling sand to the Arabs, he sells extremely posh wine. My post from yesterday reminded him of an amusing tale relating to some wine that arrived in his store recently which shows that it is not just Islamic states that worry about public morals being corrupted by the flashing of a bit of flesh.

Quite a few of us here in the UAE roared with laughter when at cinema screenings, a statue's nude bottom was blurred out of Quentin Tarantino's characteristically violence and blood-splattered film Django Unchained, because it was considered too rude, when, meanwhile, viewers were treated to graphic scenes of a slave being savaged to death by dogs and another slave being beaten to death with a hammer for the amusement of Leonardo DiCaprio's character Calvin Candie. Horrific violence is fine, a nude porcelain bottom is not, it would appear.

It's not just in the Gulf where an artistically rendered nude is a problem, it seems. Mouton Rothschild has a label each year designed by an artist, with Bacon and Picasso being among the famous names who have had their work immortalised on a bottle. In 1993, an artist called Balthus stepped up to the mark and produced a charcoal reclining nude. It is artistic, it's a fairly vague drawing of a nude, it's on a bottle of wine which is, let's face it, only meant to be drunk by adults, so few are going to see it. Who could possibly have a problem with it? Step forward USA, where it was considered an "inappopriate" way to market alcohol. Could Mouton possibly come up with another label because it's just too naughty? The answer is, yes, they could, and here it is:

 
Those cheese-eating surrender monkeys seem to have done a rather comprehensive (**insert rude french word here***) vous to the Americans by simply producing a blank label for the Yanks, lest they be corrupted by the charcoal drawing on an exclusive bottle of wine. FYI, both versions of the bottle are available in the store. Presumably staff have to ask for passports and only sell the one featuring the reclining nude to non-Americans.

The story is disputed here, but whoever it was that originally made the fuss about the nudey naked lady, it just shows that certain people have a lot more in common than they may think.

I've chosen not to include the nudey naked lady picture, because, and I may be going slightly native here, I could get some bother for publishing a provocative picture on a blog that is partially intended for a UAE audience. If you want to see her, you will just have to visit the shop, won't you?