Sooooooo... February 2012, Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos trip report - yada (spring rolls) yada (fried tarantula) yada. One thing I didn't mention was sharing a taxi from an airport with a lady who mentioned "oh, you'd love Burma". Fastforward 12 months and we're back at Heathrow airport for the trip we had booked for two weeks in Burma then one week in Dubai and Oman.
Elaine being a loyal disciple of Lonely Planet (essential for a country like Burma) we had made out a rough itinerary of what to do, where to go and, having read lots of forums on TripAdvisor, we enlisted the help of an agent to arrange hotels, internal flights, a boat ride and transfers (though no tours). We enlisted the help of Kyaw Khaing from onestop-myanmar.com who proved extremely organised and accommodating (booking hotels prior to going to Burma is recommended as there are only a limited amount of hotels which are allowed to take tourists and tourism is rising beyond the capacity of the existing hotels).
To go to Burma, it is essential to learn some of its history - the life and assassination of General Aung San, his daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi (she's also known as, simply, "The Lady" which moniker I will use from now on), Burma's time under British rule, the fight against the Japanese, the fight for independence, military rule and all the implications of that rule, the brutal repression of the people, the release of The Lady from house arrest, the continuing military rule, the country's reintroduction to the world after years of being a "closed" country and Burma today. Also the question of whether to call it Burma or Myanmar, Yangon or Rangoon (for me, I'll take note of The Lady's opinion over the present military leadership), and how to avoid (as much as possible) supporting the military rule through using non-government affiliated organisations. Anyway, that's all homework for anyone thinking about visiting Burma, and I'll probably reference some of these things in the write up. Okay, exercise books away, and pour yourself that glass of wine, here goes for my second trip report...
Yangon - East Hotel (great location, good room, helpful staff - recommended)
As soon as we arrived, there were building works everywhere, but Burma is desperately trying to keep up with the massive increase in tourism so building noise was not unexpected and earplugs packed accordingly. After ambling for 10 minutes in the 37 degree heat we stopped for a drink (20p - though the bottles had probably been re-used 100 times by the looks of them), it was nice to sit and watch people go by, and be watched by the people going by. We immediately felt very safe, and very... how shall I say this... we knew that we wouldn't need to check our change when we paid the bill - it was very honest and the people want you there (and the repercussions for stealing from a tourist would no doubt be horrendous).
Next morning we visited a tea house recommended in Lonely Planet (Thone Pan Hla) and loved the place. I had the Shan noodles which were scrummy, and it seems to be known that tourists like chicken as, when you ask for a dish, people always ask "chicken?" and I also had a cup of tea which is served with evaporated milk (as is the coffee) - as a non-tea drinker, I actually quite liked it, but proper tea/coffee drinkers would probably be less impressed. We found out that the lads serving in tea houses often come from the countryside and it's their way of subsidising their studies in the city so a good place to go and feel good about supporting - even though by the end the cost for the two of us was a massive £1.20.
By the way, no matter how often I visit these countries and enjoy their cultures, I don't think I'll ever come to terms with all the hawking and spitting that goes on - even worse here as many people eat the betelnut which means when they spit, the saliva is blood-red (and their teeth look horrendous) - betelnuts have been chewed pretty much since people existed - it has similar properties to caffeine or tobacco.
Another wander around the streets of Yangon and it was interesting to see the architecture - you can see the big old colonial buildings which in their day must have been impressive but are now in a state of decay with plaster falling off and greenery protruding from crevices in the walls. We then decided to spoil ourselves a bit and visited the Strand Hotel for a drink - it's like taking a step into the past - Burma's equivalent of Singapore's Raffles, with someone playing a plinky-plonky bamboo instrument (I believe that that's it's official name) whilst we sipped our drinks.
We then went to the jetty to catch the boat to Dalal, a 10 minute crossing which cost us, as tourists, an outrageous $4 each - I have a feeling that this particular levy would go straight into the pockets of the military rulers so I'm hesitant to recommend the trip, but it was interesting to see all the hustle and bustle, the man with a bicycle with about 20 live chickens hanging off the back, different people walking the deck shouting whatever wares they were selling, and everyone except us rushed to sit on the benches or sit on a teeny plastic chair (the sort you would have sat your teddy bear on when you were a kid), but we were content to stand and watch the river from the side and, when we arrived on the other side and stepped off the jetty, were shouted at from every direction to take a motorbike, drink in their establishment or employ the use of a guide - Yangon had been so free and easy that it was a bit unexpected to suddenly be hassled from every direction but we took our time and ended up in a bar (the only women in the bar - not sure if that was considered ok or not but, hey-ho, we needed a drink) before heading back, chatting to a couple of kids wanting to practice their English, to a cafe where we asked for a lemon drink and receiving orange (turns out lein-maw-ye is Burmese for orange so it all made sense when we learned that).
We then took a long walk back past a much poorer area of Yangon which was interesting to see, we got lots of hello's and waves and then got stopped by a monk who asked us if he and his friend could show us the monastery they stayed at (i.e. they wanted to practice their English) and he was a delightful guide, giggling at his difficulty in making himself understood - in the end we just all walked round giggling constantly so I'm not sure if he learned any more English, but it was a nice way to while away half an hour.
The next day we went to the train station for the 3 hour circular train, and paid the grumpy ticket issuer who we warmed to when he let us know we were trying to get on the wrong train, then took our seats on the plastic benches with open windows to see a bit further outside of the chaos of central Yangon. Even though the seats were uncomfortable, there was a lovely breeze and the train gradually filled up with people, with sellers coming down the aisles selling food - one lady had a tray on her head and made up a plastic bag of noodles with about 10 other ingredients for a customer which was then consumed from the plastic bag as the train trundled on. I noticed that the lady sitting next to me (probably in her 60s) was observing me closely, inspecting me from head to foot - I mentioned it to Elaine who confirmed I was being scanned for every detail. I decided the best course of action was to offer her a polo which, after much hesitation, she eventually took, so the three of us munched away on our sweets in companionable silence whilst chaos ruled in the carriage. Later, Elaine offered us both a pear drop and this time there was no hesitation - and again we all merrily sucked on our sweets in a line. Elaine and I crunched ours and a few minutes later the lady tapped me on the leg to indicate she was leaving and gave us a big smile and a wave, still enjoying her pear drop. How lovely was it that we didn't exchange a word but I knew that I liked her - with hindsight I wish so much that I could have communicated more with this lady, learned her story, how life was for her now, what she had seen and lived through and her hopes for her country. I hope she's ok. We then stopped at one place which must have had a big food market as massive baskets of vegetables were suddenly rushed onto the train, through doors, windows, anywhere, and placed in the aisle, squeezing your knees out of the way and squashing your feet. As Elaine put it, we were trapped in a "veg-weg". A ticket inspector got on too and all the chatter and noise immediately stopped as everyone watched us hand over our tickets for inspection - everything appeared fine though and the chatter recommenced the moment we were handed back our tickets, but you could feel the tension for a second - that's when you realise that you're not really seeing the real Burma, only the façade of what you are allowed to see as a tourist.
Back in Yangon and we went to an Indian restaurant we had noticed walking by the other day. The chap who served us was lovely, doing his best to look after us with our choices. All the sauces were lovely but I think my chicken must have been anorexic as there wasn't a scrap of meat on the bone. Our chap noticed me trying to find even the teensiest bit of meat and kept pouring more potatoes on my plate instead. Then the lights all went out (common in Burma with unreliable electricity); however, when they started the generator, this seemed to cause a chain reaction, with first a customer, then our waiter, and then Elaine jumping up and letting out an alarmed "oooh". "What?" I asked, "A rat" said Elaine, "A rat?" I said, "Yes" said Elaine, "Not a big mouse?" I asked, "No a rat" said Elaine. Soooooo - what's the etiquette here? A squeal? A scream? Jump on the table? Complain? Leave in horror? Nobody seemed to do anything so I just pulled up another stool to put my feet on and continued with dinner and, after a second's hesitation, Elaine did the same. Just another experience in Yangon.
Afterwards we went to spend the evening at the Shwedagon Pagoda which was fabulous - awesome and kitsch at the same time. It's the largest in Burma and a must-see for Yangon - one of those places where you take a sharp intake of breath when you see it - stunning and huge with various temples and statues of Buddhas - some with neon lighting emanating from behind their heads - and hundreds of people sitting, chanting or praying in front of their chosen Buddha. We sat and soaked up the atmosphere before being surrounded by a group of Japanese tourists in their finest clothes who wanted pictures with us, which we did, even though we felt like giants next to them and extremely grimy in the clothes we had been wearing since the morning, compared to their silk outfits, but at least we never need to see the photos! Sometimes I question my choice of holiday - the discomfort, squalor, food hygiene issues and sheer hard work of travelling around - but the people are so warm, their monuments so breathtaking and the feeling I get at the end of a day like today will stay with me forever. A great day.
Mandalay - Queen Hotel (not recommended, poor location, badly in need of refurbishment)
The walk into town was pretty miserable - hot, dusty, nowhere to stop for a drink, loads of shops selling engine parts, busy and chaotic; we walked into an indoor market and straight out again at the sheer oppressiveness of being crammed into a small area with too many people. Onwards towards the riverside but it was still very much a working area and not really a place for stopping, eating or drinking. We eventually managed to get a taxi back to near to the Palace which was a much, much nicer area so, for anyone going to Mandalay, make sure your accommodation is based near the Palace. For sunset we ended up finding a place with all these white domes with chimes on them at the bottom of Mandalay Hill - each dome has a tablet inside with one of Buddha's teachings inscribed on it. Sunset was very pretty and peaceful - until a big Japanese group arrived and insisted on pictures with us (you really don't have a choice) - Elaine had the bright idea of asking them to also take a picture on our cameras and I love my picture showing a bemused Elaine and myself surrounded by about 20 Japanese people enthusiastically posing for the picture.
Next day and Elaine was feeling horribly rough but really wanted to do the bike tour we had booked for later, so I left Elaine to try to sleep it off and wandered out to get a drink. Nowhere nearby but I walked up to a table I saw but it all got a bit confusing, though eventually I was given a water and a chair pulled down off a stack, and then a lady arrived with some bowls of sweets and fruit but I had no idea how much to pay so I left more than enough, together with a picture of a dog wearing a jumper in the snow in England I had brought with me, with a big thank you "Cze-zu-tin-ba-deh!" written on the back (the following day I realised that this was actually a private residence so I've no idea what they thought of me, but it was very nice of them to look after me). Elaine was feeling a bit better so we were both there when Lou-oan arrived with his brother as driver and we drove about 30 minutes away to start the bike tour. Now I'm not the greatest cyclist and my excuse is that my hair was in the way of my eyes when I put on the cycle helmet, but we had arrived on this big bit of land where an old man was sitting by a tree with a small table selling fruit. I got on my bike and, you know when you have all the space in the world but you can't avoid colliding with the one thing you should avoid? Anyway, I eventually managed to get some control of my bike but still remember the look of amusement, then concern, then horror, on that chap's face as I wobbled nearer and nearer to where he was sitting before managing to gain control.
We stopped at several places along the way, a chap selling street food (fried and delicious), a place where they make bowls, a weaving place, a place where they make cigars, a place where they dye material, and this trip was major hard work, cycling over rocky terrain, through villages "hello", "bye-bye", "minga-la-bah" being called from every direction whilst your eyes rattled in your head over the terrible paths. We then crossed a river on a small boat and it was lovely that it was just the 3 of us as we passed big tour groups and left them at different points to continue our journey alone. This was all hard, hard work and I was pretty much done in - I've no idea how Elaine coped as she was still feeling poorly - and the 4 hour tour hadn't offered a single toilet break - thank goodness for Imodium! We then left the bikes and walked past a peanut field (I hadn't even realised peanuts grew underground) before getting onto another boat and being punted along with barely anyone around, a few kids fishing, a couple of duck farmers trying to gather their flock together, before we arrived at U-Behn bridge to await sunset. This has become a popular spot for tourists to come and see, but the number of people didn't diminish from the view - magnificent - and the reason that Elaine had pushed herself to be able to come on the tour. If you go to Mandalay, do not miss this (the place is called Ava), and despite it being expensive and hard work, I would definitely recommend the bike tour with Grasshopper Tours.
Bagan - Thazin Garden Hotel (pretty, relaxing, recommended)
We knew the boat from Mandalay to Bagan would take around 10 hours so were apprehensive, but I wouldn't have missed this for the world. Lovely boat, pleasant breeze, tea/coffee/toast provided free, good bathroom facilities and very clean. The people on other boats along the way initially just stared, but then someone would wave and everyone would be smiling and waving at each other - very friendly.
Because the water was so shallow many of the boats had people at the front holding long poles testing the depth of the water - this was why our boat would have such a long journey, as it was necessary to zig-zag to find where the water was deeper. By 1pm it was becoming too hot on the boat so we kept skedaddling from one side to the other as the boat twisted and turned, chasing the shade. We arrived in Bagan at sunset, driving through beautiful scenery to our hotel where we ate, with an impressive view of the pool, bougainvillea and a stupa.
The following day we hired bikes which was challenging as lots of places have sand roads which means you're doing a cross between cycling and surfing - not easy. The tarmac roads are in terrible condition so half the time your teeth are rattling in your head and you're trying hard to control direction whilst coaches roar past - and the bikes have no lights so it was somewhat dangerous cycling after sundown (thanks goodness for our torches). Bagan is lovely, all temples and stupas off in the distance as far as you can see. As we headed home we took a side road back to the hotel and ended up passing loads of local peoples' homes and, even though we couldn't see the residents, we heard several "hello's" being called out to us – a friendly lot.
Next day up early as we had booked a taxi to take us to the market town ready for sunrise. Sitting patiently at 5.45, then not so patiently at 6.15. The taxi wasn't coming so we grumpily (or I should say I, grumpily) grabbed our bikes and started off to the nearest stupa. It wasn't one of the best but would have to do and we went to sit on the wall. We then saw a gap in the wall and went through to the back where the view opened up and became more and more impressive. We could hear the chanting from a temple and the mist was covering the lower ground with the temples rising above; then we saw hot air balloons and we both took some wonderful pictures as the balloons flew right over where we were standing, coming down to land within a couple of hundred yards with trucks arriving full of men to catch the guy ropes and pull the balloons down. What had started off with disappointment at the taxi not arriving had turned in our favour, with a beautiful sunrise and no-one other than the balloonists around us - magnificent. Re-energised, we then set off to see more stupas and this was an easier ride. On stopping for a drink, we looked at their wall and there were loads of pictures of Buddha and of General Aung San and of The Lady - you see her picture everywhere, stuck to walls, on calendars, in horsecarts, she is such a huge figure in Burma. Off and cycling again on sand and my wheel decided not to work at all and I took an impressive fall into (thankfully) a pile of sand, much to Elaine's amusement (thanks a lot). On the way home, Elaine noticed an NLD office (National League for Democracy - The Lady's party) so we stopped and made a donation and were allowed to take photos which we were happy to do. We later went to a restaurant at the end of the hotel's drive - every time we had cycled past, one of the people inside had called out whether we wanted anything to eat and, time after time, we had said no. However tonight we decided to try it out and thank goodness we did as it was the best food we had on our whole trip. The place is called Shwe Lan Thit - all I ordered was the coconut rice with chicken so wasn't expecting much but, whilst we were waiting for our meals the owner brought out home-cooked chips with chilli sauce, then brought our meals and my mouth waters now remembering how good the flavours were - of course Elaine and I oohed and aaahed our approval, to the delight of the owners, who also brought us fruit afterwards and their card and their son chatted to us for a while and it was a treat. He was studying English in order to become a tour guide and we were so delighted with our dinner that we went home and made up a bag of things for him (pens, an exercise book, my English-Burmese phrase book and some money to add to his foreign money collection) and we were glad to do it - he and his family deserve to do well and I've since written up the restaurant on TripAdvisor as they should get the hotel's custom as their food is so much better than the hotel restaurant. Another great day.
Lake Inle - (Pyi Guest House - not luxury but grew to quite like it and the breakfasts were lovely)
We set off towards the river and were talked into booking a full-day boat trip the next day by Joso, then after a meal opposite a building site (glamorous), we walked home in the pitch black via some side streets until we found our accommodation where all the lighting had gone out, so we were given candles and we had our first opportunity to dig out and put on our head torches which amused us hugely for some reason.
Next day woken by several cockerels (one which seemed to have a sore throat), dogs and someone shouting at 6am but all was well as we had to get up early anyway. Off to the jetty and a wobbly step onto the boat where we were given a blanket until the morning chill wore off. We chugged onto Lake Inle itself and it was a misty morning, we went past fishermen who used a leg to manoeuvre an oar (sounds weird but they're well known for moving their boats like this), lots of houses on stilts and people living and working with the water - washing clothes, hair, children, collecting seaweed and we went past an island made up entirely of vegetation and crops. We stopped at a weaving village to see how it was done, then straight into their shop (nothing bought) then on to a pottery village where a girl told us to follow her then told us brusquely "sit down" (which we obediently did) to watch her making about 10 things out of a lump of clay, then "You buy now". We then stopped for lunch by a pagoda, having time to walk about and see the sights away from the main hustle and bustle, then headed off to a silversmiths which was a bit of a free-for-all with dozens of tourists so we left there pretty quickly. We then headed to a monastery famous for its jumping cats but, as the monk who used to train them has died, the cats kind of just mooch about now. We found a nice spot to just sit and enjoy the scenery, then back to the boat to head home. Electricity off at the accommodation again so the head torches have come into their own again - another day done!
When we flew back from Lake Inle to Yangon, Elaine used the bathroom whilst I waited for the suitcases and then we swapped. Whilst in the bathroom I heard the sound of applause so presumed people had heard their late flight was ready to board or something, but when I got outside, Elaine literally grabbed my arm and burst out "It's her, she went through, it's Aung San Suu Kyi!". Elaine was intent at this point of dragging me over to the exit to see The Lady but, as we hadn't got our suitcases yet, we had to remain where we were. Allow myself to be clear here. Elaine seeing The Lady was a BIG DEAL - a bit like if you saw the Queen walk past, or Ghandi, or Nelson Mandela - a big, BIG deal. I, in my infinite wisdom, had decided that that was the perfect time to be in the toilet. AAAAAARRRGH - typical!!! (but I did hear the applause!!!).
After going to our favourite tea house again, we arranged a taxi to take us to The Lady's house where she had been held under house arrest for 15 out of 21 years. You can't see much, a big brick wall, a big gate with a picture of her father on top and lots of barbed wire. We still took pictures and were watched every moment by a guard on the inside of the gate through a gap. Afterwards we headed to the market where a group of nuns (pink dresses with shaved heads) chanted for money for their alms bowls. The shopkeepers all give them a few notes and the nuns were all children - I don't know how long they're away from their parents for, but some of them looked as young as 5 or 6. At one point I asked a vendor how much for a bowl and was told 550 - I thought, result!! That's sooooo cheap but you always have to barter so I asked if he'd take 500, at which point his eyes lit up, but he knew you always have to barter so he suggested 510. It was at this point that I thought perhaps it was too cheap - 500 kyat is only about 37p so I suddenly twigged - "that's 500......." yes, it was 500 dollars which is just about as ridiculous as 500 Kyat. A drink near the market from a betelnut chewing chap who was a bit of a character (when a young girl turned up he pointed at her and told me it was his grandmother - I said she had good makeup) and I asked him for a photo hoping he'd smile to show his betelnut teeth but no luck, he was happy to pose though and again, I just thought that I liked him.
Dubai - Ramada Hotel (OK but no coffee making facilities in room - BIG disadvantage)/Landmark Riqqa Hotel (not recommended - no coffee, no hot waterr)
Arriving in Dubai, something changed - I think it was from having to be so in control in Burma – our brains seemed to stop working. When we needed to change up some Dollars for Dirham, we were both clueless and giggled uncontrollably in front of a bemused cashier as we tried counting our dollars for the 7th time. Elaine then introduced what became our favourite pastime of calling out "sheik" whenever she saw a man in a long white outfit, at which point you had to give a shimmy (not provocative, more like Kermit the Frog). As you can imagine, in Dubai and Oman there were a fair few sheiks so there were quite a few shimmies (I never realised I was so obedient) but there was certainly a different mentality to both of us on leaving Burma, like now we could stop the more difficult part of our holiday and just muck about the rest of it. For some reason we also started talking in a northern accent ("do you want a per-ler" [polo]) which was.... different.
Oman - Golden Tulip Hotel (nice, recommended. Only problem is the restaurant is expensive and there's nowhere else nearby to eat)
Up at 8 and met by Khasab Travel with whom we had booked a trip. We were told nuggets of information on the way – for instance, we went through the last town on the UAE side where there are 70% bedouins who, for being in the police or army they are paid Euro 5000 per month, tax free. Near to the crossing there are houses being built as the bedouins are entitled to a free house for each family - it's considered morally right as they were the original inhabitants (the sheiks (wiggle) come from other countries) so the wealth (of which there is a tremendous amount) is shared around. Good, straightforward border crossing and it was clear straight away that the Omanis are much friendlier. Our guide (from Pakistan) informed us that it was because in the UAE it's 80% foreigners and 20% locals, whereas in Oman it's 80% locals and 20% foreigners. The easier attitude is certainly noticeable. As we drove along the Musandam Peninsula we were only 40 miles away from Iran and there were lots of little speedboats containing Iranians smuggling cigarettes. The Omanis turn a blind eye to it all so it's all pretty friendly - the Iranian pirates even wave to you as you sail about on a dhow. Once in Khasab we were met for our mountain safari which wasn't so scary, lots of mountain tracks in a 4x4 which took us to a point where there were fossils in the rocks where the mountain plates had pushed up and up until the fossils of creatures could be seen in the rocks some, oooh, 200 million years later. At one point we stopped with a sheer drop as a background, whilst Elaine, me and our fellow passenger (from Spain but originally from Chile – oooh Chile…. on the list) hung back near the car, the guide grabbed my hand and pulled me to the precipice for a photo-op - I still managed a nervous smile.
Next day we had an all-day dhow cruise and it was lovely and relaxing - the deck of the boat had carpets and cushions everywhere and we were a small crew (12 guests) so plenty of room. Our first stop was an area where, if you make a lot of noise with the boat and race off, dolphins appear at the side, racing alongside, back and forth for about 10 minutes. We had villages pointed out to us on the sides of mountains with populations of around 25 - even these tiny communities had power lines snaking from their houses up into the mountain. We then stopped for a swim with our snorkels, looking at the pretty fish swarming about our boat (especially when someone threw in some banana near Elaine, much to her alarm when the fish all sped in her direction). Then time to dry off and have lunch before stopping in another area for another swim - all very leisurely and relaxing. By the time we got back, the sun was lower in the sky and we took a wander up a hill where we saw two sheiks (wiggle, wiggle) sitting by a tree. They were watching a group of fishermen who were gradually pulling in their nets; another car arrived and more sheiks (wiggle, wiggle - you get it) got out and wandered to another spot to watch the results of the fishermen pulling in their nets - they were businessmen watching to see what kind of haul they were going to get. I was more interested in the little black cat we had seen around the hotel which kept crawling closer and closer to where the fishermen were sitting and pulling in the nets - he knew what he was doing that cat and, despite one of the fishermen throwing a pebble at him, managed to snaffle a big fish and run off, much to Elaine's and my delight. The haul was poor (as one of the sheiks (wiggle) said to me as he wandered back to his car) - they were all very friendly, asking where we were from and how we were enjoying our time in Oman - lovely place.
Next day we walked into Khasab town which we had thought was only a few miles away but turned into quite a hike - and when we arrived there really wasn't much to see in the town itself so we settled at a plastic table with a diet coke, taking photos of each other whilst surreptitiously trying to include the group of sheiks (shimmy - it's a group!) sitting nearby. That afternoon we had booked kayaking but found out that we would be on our own - no guide, no help, the sea was rough and we had read stories of rather large sharks in the area so, life-jackets on and with our boat at the ready, we had to persuade the rep and the two chaps who'd brought the boat that we were fine and they could leave us be, and as soon as they were out of sight we removed the lifejackets and went on a shell-search instead. Sharks - no. An hour later when we were sitting down relaxing, a French couple walked up and put their towel down about 2 metres away - it was an empty beach! Why do people do that?
Next morning we had to settle our bill and, as money-girl, I went up to the devilishly handsome receptionist and I must admit I've never seen Elaine move so quickly to join me at the desk with an enormous smile on her face - he really was very lovely to look at... sigh... Time to leave, with our guide, Youssef, who was a bit of a joker and asked if I wanted to drive. I said "Sure, no problem" but was a bit alarmed when he pulled over and told me to take the driver's seat "but I don't have insurance" I squawked "Not a problem in Oman". So there was me, in the driving seat of a massive 4x4 (I own a teeny-engined Peugeot 107) driving around the Musandam Peninsula in Oman, all the way to the border crossing with the UAE. Even though we said we didn't want anything, Youssef very kindly bought us a fruit juice and dairy milk bar ("oooh, chocolate!") and it was a pleasant drive to our hotel back in Dubai.
Straight away we were off walking again, this time to the metro over to palm beach which was nice with a little plane zooming off every 30 minutes with parachutists leaping out to their hearts' content. Dubai isn't much of a walking place, more of a concrete jungle with 8-lane motorways, huge buildings and building works everywhere. For me it was a bit soulless - kind of like a new town that hasn't developed a character yet - and every time we tried to walk any distance we got thwarted by uncrossable roads or no access signs. What we had intended to be a couple of miles' walk turned into a major hike with both of us at the point of giving up trying to get to the monorail out to where the Atlantis Hotel is (the only 7-star hotel in the world). We managed to get there in the end and were proud as punch of ourselves for not giving up (bulldog spirit and all that).
Breakfast and lots of coffee for Elaine (her drug of choice) before getting to the river to take a little boat, which cost 15p, to a busy souk selling loads of tourist trinkets with heavy pressure to buy things. At a certain time there was a call to prayer and all the shopkeepers shut up shop and headed for the mosque, as did we, wandering around the grounds as the men took off their shoes and headed for prayer. We then went to the biggest shopping mall in the world, then headed outside for a drink and a view of the biggest building in the world - the Burj Khalifa - which we had already booked tickets for before arriving in Dubai (on the advice of fellow T&Ls). On arrival at the Burj Khalifa entrance we were shepherded through to a lift which travels at a mighty 10m per second (ears popping). The views were good but a bit misty so we wandered around, used the bathroom (well it is the biggest building in the world - you have to don't you?) then found a spot which overlooked the fountains and, as we knew they would be starting soon, settled in place and waited, until the fountains started with Celine Dion/Andreas Boccelli singing "The Prayer" whilst the water shot up to 150ft in the air - impressive.
Last day and we caught the metro one last time to the marina and noticed a surprising lack of modesty from a country where you're supposed to be mindful of such things. On our flight home we ended up on either side of a chap who was evidently most unhappy to be between two women, who plugged his earphones into the Koran channel on the radio, put his blanket over his head and chanted his prayer all the way home - not sure it was really the time nor the place but he certainly succeeded in stopping us from getting a wink of sleep so arrived back at Heathrow, very ready for another holiday.... now how about Chile?
So that's it, and I haven't mentioned in Burma the cricket called Mandy, the novelty of open-plan toilets, in Oman the Basil Fawlty styled receptionist, nor in Dubai the women and children only carriages where any hapless man who has the misfortune to board gets squawked at by the indignant females until they do the walk of shame through to a mixed carriage... the stories go on and on. "Travel broadens your mind" - whoever said that was onto something...