Marathon Man…

Hi again folks, it’s been a while, I know. I’ve been settling into life back on German soil for a month now, and things seem fairly normal again. In other words, back to less-than-full employment, cooking my own food, doing dishes and laundry, being able to go outside without drenching my clothes in sweat, and trying to figure out how – after recently turning 36, with all that that entails – to make a career out of my odd collection of aptitudes and interests. It’s nice to be home!

Also, back to the freedom to do wacky things I like to do, such as running marathons. Once again – this was the third time – I pinned a number on my chest and ran 42.195 km for no reason other than the inexplicable feeling of accomplishment that comes from having done so. And considering that 90% of my training for this race was indoors on a treadmill, I am fairly happy with the results: I finished with a net time of 3:43’52” – a personal best and just inside my time goal of 3:45.

This marathon was in the once-again-fair city of Dresden, famous for having been so utterly destroyed in a massive bombing campaign by Allied forces between February 13 and February 15, 1945. (Historian Frederick Taylor says: “The destruction of Dresden has an epically tragic quality to it. It was a wonderfully beautiful city and a symbol of baroque humanism and all that was best in Germany. It also contained all of the worst from Germany during the Nazi period. In that sense it is an absolutely exemplary tragedy for the horrors of 20th Century warfare…”⁾

Dresden has been under reconstruction for many years, and the recent completion and re-opening of the magnificent Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) makes it once again the centre of a stunning historic city centre. This picture was taken from a path along the river, part of the marathon route, which also incorporated cobblestone streets, parks, bridges, fountains – really a lovely course, highly recommended, and the weather could not have been more perfect.

I was not alone in Dresden, though Athanasia could not make it down – my sister Katie and a number of friends came up from Prague to celebrate her birthday, and a number of them – including Katie – ran the 10km part of the race. Since we all started together, I was not able to be at the finish line to welcome Katie across, but was very proud of her for finishing in a quite respectable 1:05! Congratulations Katie, and thanks again for your support…

Finally, I guess that as a) many of you already know this, and b) I have already announced it on a more widely-read blog, I should take this moment to mention that Athanasia and I are expecting a baby, due around the end of February! This is very exciting of course and we are trying to prepare, as much as it is possible to be prepared… thanks to all who have already wished us well in this grand adventure, I’m sure you’ll be hearing more soon…

Ciao for now… – tobias

An Evening Out (or, You’re Souking In It!)

So, let us leave aside then, for a while at least, the world of ultra-luxury hotels, and have a quick look at how the other half lives. Or perhaps the other 95% or so, would be more accurate, the world being what it is. Let’s take a wander through the streets of ‘old dubai’ – though, of course, very little of it is really all that old. However, it’s a bit more gritty and real than that which has been filling these pages thus far. Last monday night I had a few errands to run, one of which was simply to take some pictures for this blog; the others led me through the Cloth Souk, the Spice Souk and the Gold Souk.

There is another side to the city, to be sure. It feels a lot like the busy trading centre of a major Asian city, which should hardly be surprising, I suppose, especially since the vast majority of its denizens are expatriates from India, Iran, Pakistan, and points further afield. That of course is also true of the people that are building and staffing the luxury hotels elsewhere in town (the builders mostly Indian, the service staff more varied, with large proportions from Sri Lanka, the Philippines, Uzbekistan and central Asia). There are many more Iranians, from what I can tell, in the mercantile trades here. This may be in part because speaking Arabic is a significant part of the job.

There were some characters in the shops; of course, it’s all about bargaining and haggling here, you can be quite confident that the starting price is anything up to twice the ‘real’ price or more, and that no matter how good you think you are at bargaining, the last price is still a pretty good deal for the vendor. They’re better at it than you are, and they understand the power of a friendly smile and an easy-going nature. There is much joking around, and assurances that they are going to give you a Special Price – as if you were somehow a treasured old friend or important houseguest, and usually at the end you have the distinct impression that you spent more than you had intended to, but it’s not so bad really.

The older sections of town are clustered around the Dubai Creek, and getting around usually involves a trip on one of the rivercraft called Abras – bigger, gas-powered versions of the same elongated dories that ply the waters of Madinat out here in the juxury zone. These working-class cousins are a bit more rough-and-tumble, and they aren’t so decorous when it comes to stopping for dis/embarkation; you have to be on your toes a little. In that sense it reminded me of Bangkok a little. The Creek is one of the more picturesque parts of what is not, let’s be honest here, the prettiest city in the world.

The Souks are pretty atmospheric, especially the Spice Souk with its myriad fragrances, which I could still smell on my clothes the next morning. It’s also reassuring on a freshness level when, within 100 metres of the Souk, there are docks lined with enormous bales and crates of spices just unloaded and waiting for distribution to the various vendours in the marketplace.

Eventually, though, all good things must come to an end; the shops began to close and it was time to cart our purchases back here to the Land Of Nod. Given that my time here is almost done, this might have been my last visit to the ‘grittier’ parts of the city. Glad I made the trek!

Opulence, Inc.

OK. It took me a while but I have finally discovered real, outrageous, over-the-top magnificent opulent excess here in Dubai. I mean, they accomplish one flavour it here at the Burj, and it’s certainly overwhelming in its way, but something is not quite right; the parts don’t quite fit together, and despite its inarguable power it seems somehow confused about what it’s trying to be. I have written here before about the Madinat development next door, where I go quite frequently to write and take in a bit of a different ambience. Up to now I have only been going to Mina A’Salaam, the closer of the two boutique hotels that form the hubs of the complex. A couple of days ago I finally made it as far as the other one, Al Qasr. And my mind was duly blown.

Don’t get me wrong, I have not lost the ironic twist with which I am looking at all of this, and on a number of levels I still find it appalling and horrifying, considering all that is wrong in the world. From an aesthetic standpoint, I also don’t necessarily particularly like these extremes of ostentatiousness, these overt displays of wealth and privilege. But as a kind of fish-out-of-water observer, I find it hard not to be fascinated by what people with more or less infinite resources choose to do with them, how they conceive of luxury… I don’t really relate to it, but it’s kind of interesting to have a look at.

To which end. If the Burj is an intimidating if slightly ungainly combination of ultra-modern, iconic mega-architecture with gaudy luxury and Arabic aesthetic layered on like greasepaint, if Mina A’Salaam is more traditional, warm easy-going Oriental style with a nautical theme, if Bab Al Shams is rustic luxury with real desert fort ambience… then what is Al Qasr? Well, the name means The Palace, and that’s what it is. It’s an attempt to build into a luxury five-star-deluxe hotel all the opulence of a royal palace, in the Arabian style. Let’s run down a quick checklist and see how they’ve done.

Long, high-security winding driveway between manicured gardens, with Arabian horse sculptures strewn left and right? Check. Enormous covered arrival area with ornate mosaic floors and enormous fountain, again with stylized equestrian theme? Check. Long airy approach to the main entry between carved pillars, with more fountains, sculptures, pools and palm trees? Check. Grand entryway, with seven-foot-tall African guards in traditional attire and a small army of hovering attendants, set against more beautiful mosaics? Check. Gigantic Swarovski jewel-encrusted chandeliers, including easily the biggest I’ve ever seen, set over a grand staircase with more fountains? Check. OK, we’re in now, let’s have a look around…

This level of absurdity continues more or less throughout the grounds, which include numerous extravagantly expensive restaurants and lounges, terraces with domes and gorgeous sea views, private gardens and beaches and the largest pool in the Middle East. The waterways of the Madinat complex weave quietly through all of this, and the views take in the neighboring Mina A’Salaam, Souk Madinat, the Dar Al Masyaf villas (which I unsuccessfully tried to get a staff-rate booking for as well, while Athanasia was here), and of course the Burj Al’Arab. Hard to escape really, being as it’s the only thing for miles around taller than 60 metres or so and it’s over 300.

The thing I find most amazing about all of these properties is how spacious they are. Having spent a few years in tightly-packed Europe, where every square inch is at a premium, and even quite luxurious places can feel a bit cramped, I find it amazing that a hotel complex would be built with literally hundreds of serene little nooks, beautifully decorated, with comfy couches strewn about, most apparently rarely, if ever, used. There are long austere passageways between sections of the hotel and grounds, most with sculptures or urns or other decorations of a traditional nature. Everywhere there are courtyards with pools or fountains, and much of the time, despite the hotels being apparently booked to capacity, there is no-one around – except for the obligatory cleaning-and-polishing staff making their never-ceasing rounds.

Anyway, for the moment I will leave off my survey of the luxury hotels of the Jumeirah group here in Dubai. Hopefully you feel better qualified to make a decision should you be in the market for an upscale holiday here, which I suppose, my sphere of influence being what it is, very few of you are. Today there is a bit of a sandstorm outside, nothing major – I am told it can get pretty wild on occasion, with car-obscuring drifts appearing in half an hour, rather like a desert version of a Montreal winter storm. However, visibility is down to almost zero and there is a coating of brown dust over almost everything outside. A good day, I suppose, to stay inside writing blogs and editing pictures…

Danger Pay…

So there I was, at 11:00 this morning, innocently tuning the piano in the restaurant where I am playing these days, when I noticed someone outside the window. Fairly strange since the window is 200 metres in the air and there is a sheer drop to the Arabian Gulf below. Yes, this man is essentially hanging in space with a big long squeegy and a bucket, cleaning the windows of one of the world’s highest restaurants. For visual reference, the white dot at lower left is a boat, and not a particularly small one. The islands of ‘The World’ development (check it out, quite mindblowing; don’t miss the nauseating promo movie!) can be dimly seen on the horizon.

A Change of Scene…

Hi folks, I seem to have missed a couple of months there somehow. Sorry about that… Not so much to report, in reality, as the routine is pretty steady here – I run on the treadmill every other day or so, and soak and steam a bit in the spa (nice work if you can get it); otherwise I spend most days writing and mucking about trying to get the computer to do what I want it to… occasionally working on some electronic music, or wandering across to Madinat for some tea and a change of scene.

Athanasia came for a visit last week and this was definitely an improvement to the overall situation. We managed to get a few days away at a desert resort (run by the same company – meaning, Staff Discount…) called Bab Al Shams. This was really relaxing and beautiful, if a little artificial, but as my dad said, at least it’s a copy of something real, something that grew – in this case, traditional Arabian fort architecture. It’s still a bit surreal, for someone who is not used to ultra-luxury resort hotels, and all that that implies… but nevertheless, hard not to be impressed with the place somehow. It’s all very low-rise, two stories and broken up into separate sections by a labyrinth of narrow winding passageways and quiet courtyards, with pools and bubbling fountains here and there. The rooms are very elegant and beautiful in a rustic way, all sandstone and wood tones and textures, and the spa is simply sublime.

And then there is an intertwining complex of larger pools for swimming and sunbathing and such, which is pretty superb – very easy to pass a few hours floating around and gazing out at the endless sand. In the late afternoon there are camel rides and falconry shows on the dunes; the guys running them were not exactly bursting with enthusiasm, but despite the obvious touristy overtones it’s hard not to be a little taken in by the atmosphere.

At night, after the obligatory mindblowing desert sunset – I had forgotten just how lovely it can be, and how deeply one tends to sink into it – the place takes on a more camp-like atmosphere; in fact, the resort’s signature restaurant is offsite, 300 metres away in a slight depression so that neither is quite visible from the other; it’s called Al Hadeera and it has a kind of desert-camp theme, with carpets in the sand and live cooking of quite superb food from around the Arab world. There is also entertainment most nights – music, belly dancing, henna-painting, and so forth – but not on the night we were there, as it was a religious holiday. I suspect it would make the whole thing even more acutely touristy, but that kind of goes with the territory. Anyway. A very nice couple of days.

Our time back here at the Burj Al’Arab was quite enjoyable as well; not quite as photogenic, perhaps, but let’s see what we can do. We did get out for an early-morning Abra-ride through the canals and waterways of the Madinat development. Abras are traditional Dubai watercraft, and the ones plying the waters here are electric, very quiet and reasonably eco-friendly, important since one area of the lagoon is sectioned off as a sea-turtle recovery area. Athanasia had a couple of nights out exploring while I was busy working (cue violins) but mostly we just took advantage of the time together which seems very important when it’s in scarce supply…

Well, I guess I should consider getting back to work at some point. Hope someone out there finds the pictures interesting… given the new camera (forgot to mention that! Canon S3is, very impressed so far…) I will try to find time for a few more before I head back to Berlin. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you with one of Athanasia’s, from the hotel lobby here, which i think is rather striking…

coming soon to a desert near me…

I forgot to mention… on the way out to Bab Al Shams we passed something quite bizarre… between enormous scultpural billboards labelled ‘Desert Gate’, and spaced randomly along roughly 8km or so of otherwise featureless desert, are gigantic advertisements for what appears to be a string of themed mega-hotel-and-towers-style developments. Most are named after continents or geographical areas (‘Africa World’, ‘Land of Arabia’, ‘Latino’ and so on), with one exception: ‘La Musica’. Well, everybody loves music, I guess. Strangely there appears to be no web presence at all for these developments. Presumably they are at a very theoretical stage, attracting investment and so on. Check out the full photoset (taken with a mobile phone camera from a car window while going by at speed, so not the best image quality)… is it just me, or is this all a wee bit odd?

Grooving Right Along…

 

OK, three weeks in now and basically settled into a rhythm of sorts. It’s still a comfortable place to be, no question about it, and the work is going well: we have a decent repertoire assembled and the group dynamic is coming together nicely. I have figured out where most things are, how to get what I need and not ruffle any feathers doing so.

And I have passed the initial phase where everything is so new and interesting that you have to try it – meaning, to put it plainly, that I am not eating as much. I’ve realized that most things are in a kind of rotation and you don’t have to put a little of everything on your plate, because if you don’t try it this time it will come around again.

Additionally, and also hopefully of use in resisting unfettered weight gain, I have managed to make friends with the treadmill. I’ve never really liked them, I much prefer running outside, preferably in the forest, but with no real option (running outside in the Dubai summer heat would likely be quite dangerous) I am finding it’s not so bad. Actually I bought a new pair of runners today, mainly because they were so absurdly cheap compared to Germany.

It’s a day off and Lars (our bassist) and I went to the Ibn Battuta Mall, which is by far my favourite of those I’ve managed to visit so far (malls are kind of the centre of all life in Dubai, and there are a lot of them). It’s actually kind of six malls all connected, each done in the architectural style of one of the countries – all Muslim at the time – which the 14th century traveler the mall is named after, visited and wrote about.

So you have the China court, the India court, the Persia court, the Egypt court… and I suppose two others, but that’s all I managed to get through today. Since Dubai is such a new city, only half-born as it were, there is little ‘real’ architecture here, and to get the flavour of the city you have to see what’s being built now – much of which is pretty outrageous.

Of course, a great deal of it is also quite bland – clusters of tall glass towers with little to distinguish them from one another. There is an enormous herd of these being thrown up nearby at what is called the Dubai Marina, though it has very little to do with marine services from what I can tell. Something like a hundred huge skyscrapers, business hotels and condominiums, all being built at once, and already apparently over 90% sold. Business, at least the construction business, is booming in Dubai.

However, there are also some architectural gems here and there (besides the malls… with or without indoor ski hills), one of which is right next door to us here, the Madinat Jumeirah complex. Jumeirah is the company that owns and runs the Burj Al’Arab, and the Jumeirah Beach Hotel across the street, and a host of other hotels and developments besides. It’s a big company, and being a big employer with close ties to the Royal Family, quite powerful as well. As usual, I find it very strange working for large companies, but perhaps it’s imprudent to go into too much detail on that…

In any case, Jumeirah have turned away in recent years from the ultra-modern eye-popping style that the Burj represents, and towards a more traditionally-inspired idiom. The result is the Madinat complex, incorporating two large hotels, the Mina A’Salaam and the Al Qasar. The latter is another gated, ultra-luxury project like the Burj and I have not been inside, but the Mina A’Salaam is open and it is, to me, really much more beautiful and tasteful than the over-the-top opulence here (supposedly the Al Qasar is even better;

they also have a desert oasis resort, out in the middle of nowhere, called Bab Al Shams, which I’m told is worth a visit too). There is also a theatre, some private luxury villas, and a ‘souk’, which means marketplace but it’s really more like a low-rise mall with a bit of a traditional Arabic cast to the architecture. It’s a tourist trap in some ways, and the deals are not the best in town, but actually it’s kind of a nice place to wander through. And it gets me out of the hotel.

The whole compound is arranged around 3 km of artificial lagoon, beautifully manicured, with island villas and sculptured gardens and traditional boats called Abras putting slowly around taking guests from place to place.

As with so many things here, none of it is ‘real’ at all, but it’s really quite pleasant all things considered. For a bit of a splash but still well below what a stay in the Burj will run you, it would probably be rather nice. Not that I’m advertising.

Well, as I say, I have more or less adjusted to this rather surreal lifestyle. It really is not too unpleasant.

Besides rehearsing, performing, eating and sleeping, I have spent a fair bit of time watching World Cup matches with Lars and Vadim, the Russian pianist from the lobby band. Still have not found the rhythm to get the creative process kick-started, but hopefully once the World Cup is over that will happen of its own accord. I did finally manage to get to the beach, although it was the middle of the night. I will leave you with this picture of the hotel in its evening dress…

Burj Al Arab – first thoughts

OK, I’ve been here for almost a week now, I guess it’s about time I got around to writing a few things down and sending them out there into that world – the one I suppose is still out there, somewhere, beyond the confines of the lovely but artificial realm which is, for the moment, my home. I’m afraid it will be very much in my usual meandering style; I will however try to break it up a bit so it’s not all in one big chunk. Some of you know how difficult that is for me; I hope you appreciate it!…

I have taken some pictures, and i will post a few here, but it’s difficult for me to really capture and convey how strange it is here. At the moment, for example, I am sitting in the lobby cafe listening to the resident traditional quartet playing what sounds like classical Persian music on Ney, Riq, Santur and Oud). I can’t take a picture of them as photos are not allowed in this area. Above me stretches the atrium which, even if I could take a picture, it would be impossible to give any real sense of. It’s enormous.

I have taken a few from above – from my floor, the 9th (really the 18th, as each floor is actually two; all the main suites are on two levels. My own humble room has a false ceiling, above which is a technical area; I’m not entirely sure what exactly it’s for, but thankfully it does not seem to be used much, at least not while I’m there) and from the 18th (36th) where the spa and fitness room are. Hopefully they can give you some idea…

Of course, everything here (besides our rooms) is aimed at all-out, over-the-top, no-holds-barred opulence. For the most part, they achieve it. It’s an impressive level of service, if sometimes a little surreal. I think I have been thanked more in the past few days than in the previous 5 years, and for no apparent reason. They say thank you at every possible interaction with a guest. They thank you for riding in the elevator; for giving them your dirty laundry; for walking through the lobby. They thank you when they put the cappuccino you’ve ordered on your table. Thank you sir, for allowing me to get out of your way. And of course, always, a smile. It’s a bit unnerving. Thankfully some of the staff allow themselves a bit of latitude in their relations with the entertainers, a bit of joking around; it’s not all as sterile and artificial as it sounds.

They tell me around 1200 people work here. I’m not sure if that includes the entertainers or not (there are 10 of us, by my count – the trio I play in, a Russian quartet who play light classical and such, a strolling guitarist who plays on the terrace, an Armenian pianist who plays melodic easy listening, and a harpist in the fish restaurant downstairs, also Russian; oh, and the traditional quartet, but they don’t stay in the hotel), as we fall between the cracks a little – not really staff, not really guests, in a kind of grey area.

We have most of the priveledges of guests, we can eat in some of the restaurants – not all, but then we don’t have to pay in the ones we are allowed in… we can use the spa and fitness facilities, come and go more or less as we please as long as we’re dressed sharp and on time for the gig. Par for the course, and certainly not a bad way to pass the days, if a bit isolated. The space-station effect.

Anyway, with about 205 suites, that’s around 6 staff per suite. When you take into account everything that is involved – a concierge and a butler per ‘floor’ – there are suites on 24 floors – on duty around the clock; reception staff in the lobby, around the clock; cooks and waiters and hosts and bartenders and sommeliers at 4 restaurants and a handful of bars and cafes; therapists, fitness coaches and various attendants at a fully-appointed spa; clerks at several luxury shops; cleaning staff for all of the above (as well as the fountains and the giant aquarium; see photo); lifeguards for the outdoor pool and the private beach; drivers for the fleet of Rolls Royce limos, on duty all the time; ditto for the buggies which are the main form of transport across the bridge (to the beach areas, the neighboring water park and other hotels in the complex, and the ‘souk’ – really a kind of mall with a nod to traditional market architecture. It’s simply too hot to walk). You begin to get the idea. The place is actually quite seriously understaffed, with many employees working literally absurd hours.

The hotel is really in two wings; the ‘billowing sail’ which stretches between them, constituting the hotel’s facade from the land side (more on this later) is more or less just that – some sort of fabric-like material stretched across a huge frame, and designed to let the wind blow through it to help keep it cool in here. So far so good – at least a tiny nod to ecological concern at the design level. Sadly, that’s about as far as it goes; in fact, this place is like a gigantic temple of waste on almost every other level – the endless piles of top-quality towels and linens laundered every day. The ship which comes every night to dredge the channel between the Burj and the mainland to keep it from silting in – for then we would no longer be on an island. I cannot imagine the amount of food from the buffets – amazing food, really, superbly prepared from the freshest and finest ingredients – that is thrown away at the end of each day. I do my best to eat as much of it as I can, but after all there is only so much that one man can do… OK I’ll wrap it up there for today. I’ll try to keep momentum and write fairly frequently, at least as long as it seems interesting enough to write about.

More soon!

- t