Category Archives: Expat

Travel post: 48 hours in Hong Kong

Posted on by

From the lights to the shopping to the fusion of Chinese and Western influences, there’s so much to sample in this fascinating and fast-paced city. This is the next installment in my series of travel posts and is adapted from my column in The Source magazine. Normal blog service resumed tomorrow! 

Flight time from Dubai: Just over 7 hours

Flight time from Dubai: Just over seven hours

Hong Kong bristles with such vibrant, non-stop energy that you can fit more into a 48-hour whirlwind tour of ‘Asia’s World City’ than you ever thought possible.

Transformed from a colonial outpost into a thriving, international business centre, Hong Kong is a city of contrasts. A Chinese metropolis with a 156-year history of British rule; a densely packed home to seven million people with islands and jungly undergrowth; and a shopping mecca famous for bright, neon lights, tucked-away temples, high teas and dim sums.

xxxxx

Hong Kong’s nightlife is electrifying

Its name means Fragrant Harbour, and while Hong Kong’s sensory overload may overwhelm at first, once you get your bearings you’ll find yourself drawn to this teeming hub like moths to a light. Here’s what you can do in 48 hours.

Day one: A friend who lived in Hong Kong for several years told me, “If you only have time to do one thing, go up The Peak.” Provided it’s not too cloudy or polluted, the views of Victoria Harbour, central Hong Kong and the city’s 260-plus islands are exhilarating.

By day, your eyes scan the gleaming skyscrapers, the traditional ferries that dot the waters of Victoria Harbour and an abundance of green landscape stretching all the way to the hills of the New Territories. As the sun sets, the hues change to pink and orange, before melting away to reveal a glittering nightscape that twinkles beneath you.

You can ascend Victoria Peak on foot via walking trails or take a bus to the top, but we opted to ride the historic Peak Tram, which climbs the mountain at an astoundingly steep angle. Dating back to 1888, the tram was the first cable funicular in Asia. Don’t be put off by the crowds at the terminus – the journey is a jaunty, not-to-be-missed visual experience in its own right.

The highest point on Hong Kong Island, Victoria Peak was home to many of the city’s early colonial administrators, who wanted to escape the heat and humidity of urban life below. Today, the exclusive neighbourhood still attracts the rich and famous, with some of the most expensive real estate in the world

The highest point on Hong Kong Island, Victoria Peak was home to many of the city’s early colonial administrators, who wanted to escape the heat and humidity of urban life below. Today, the exclusive neighbourhood still attracts the rich and famous, with some of the most expensive real estate in the world

After feasting our eyes, it was time to exercise our wallets at the Temple Street Night Market, which starts around 4pm but really gets going after dark. The emphasis is on fashion, but you can find just about anything, from chessboards to chopsticks.

There are quite literally hundreds of stalls stacked high (expect to haggle), and even if you’re not looking for a good deal, it’s worth visiting just for the atmosphere. The night market is also known for its dai pai dongs (open-air food stalls), fortune tellers and deafening Cantonese karaoke.

If you’re really determined to shop until you drop, you could always move on to Mong Kok’s Ladies Market, a one-kilometre stretch of market stalls selling piles of clothing and accessories, as well as home furnishings, CDs and trinkets.

Rounding the day off with a trip to Lan Kwai Fong, a small square of streets in Hong Kong’s Central District, will give you a lively taste of the nightlife enjoyed by the city’s expats.

Day two: The next day we opted not to visit the busy, bronze Tian Tan Buddha statue (known as the Big Buddha due to its size) and instead took a local ferry from Central Pier to the little island of Cheung Chau. A world away from the suits and skyscrapers of Central, Cheung Chau is a warren of little roads with few vehicles. It’s all too easy to while away the afternoon strolling around and sipping cold drinks at a seaside café.

As a grand finale that evening, we couldn’t resist one last look at the city’s glorious skyline, viewed from the waterfront Avenue of Stars. Modelled on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, we saw the big names from Hong Kong’s entertainment industry immortalised in stone and took a photo with a bronze statue of Bruce Lee.

But, for me, it was watching the city’s lights come on – bringing the iconic skyline into even sharper focus – that was the most memorable. Then, at 8pm, as if we hadn’t been dazzled enough already, the Symphony of Lights set the sky ablaze with lasers.

MY TIP: Eat scones and sandwiches while listening to a string quartet at The Peninsula’s high tea, or if Cantonese is more your thing, try one of the dim sum restaurants in Tsim Sha Tsui

Silent Sunday: Dive-in movie

Posted on by

Move over multiplexes – nothing, not even lazy-boy chairs with all the frills of 3D, can be more chilled than pulling up your lilo and watching a movie from a cool pool. The climate in the Gulf is perfect for Cine-Splash, which takes place on Thursday and Friday nights during the hot months at our local pool. There’s even popcorn, hotdogs and cocktails. Win, win, WIN!

xxxxxxx

Finally, my children are old enough to make this a really enjoyable experience!

The things children do for a sugar rush

Posted on by

The front door burst open and the sound of school shoes pounding on our marble staircase got louder.

“MUU-MMM! WHERE ARE YOU?”

I was upstairs, trying desperately to finish some work in the relatively quiet couple of hours between one school pick-up and the arrival of the school bus.

“Mum, I have to tell you something!”

“What is it BB? What is it?”

Who says only dogs eat homework?

Who says only dogs eat homework?

As I’ve mentioned before, he tells me very little about school, and I usually have to ask leading questions like: “What was the best thing that happened today?”, “Can you act out what you did at break time?” and “Who were the naughty children?”

So I was all ears. The slung-aside school bag, upturned lunchbox and my unfinished column could wait.

“I brought my igloo project home Mum,” [the marshmallow one I posted about last week, after learning that another mum used diamonds]

“Where is it?” I asked, suspiciously.

“Um, something happened.”

“On the bus,” he continued, a guilty look replacing his initial pained expression.

“Did you leave it on the bus? I’m sure the bus nanny will find it.’

“No, it’s not lost Mum…it’s gone…. it got eaten. By the children, on the way home.”

There’s nothing quite like finding out that your son let all his friends devour marshmallows that we’d rolled in glue (while avoiding munching on any himself) to make you rush over to the glue pot to make sure it was non-toxic. Which it was – thank goodness!

Still, I can’t help wondering if there might be a few empty seats on the bus tomorrow.

Travel widow: The five-day trip

Posted on by
Guess who?

Guess who?

I’m often asked: “Is your husband away a lot?” The truth is, he’s home a lot more than most husbands who work 9-6 plus over-time and weekends. But, of course, the nature of his job means that every time he does leave, it’s for an overseas trip of varying lengths.

His favourite jollies jaunts are to Europe – about seven hours there and back, two days away in total and a European city, such as Munich or Paris, at his disposal (what’s not to like?). I think he rather enjoys Bangkok too (not too much I hope) and, naturally, he loves returning to his home country, the States.

This week, he’s on a five-day trip to Australia and New Zealand. I’ve been with him on this one, and so I know the 14-hour journey to Sydney, the onward flight to Auckland and the jet lag are tough. But, the hardest thing, in my opinion, is the distance: it honestly feels like he’s dropped off the end of the world.

Before he left, he said to me: “Y’know, when I’m away, especially when I’m gone so far, the children just get better and better in my mind.”

“YOU WHAT?” I retorted, not sure if I’d heard him properly. I looked at him quizzically, through disbelieving eyes – but he meant it. He misses them so much that, to him, they become little angels, and not the whirling dervishes that seem to visit every time he’s gone.

So, I can’t resist, this is a day-by-day summary of not just our children’s angelic ways, but the household frustrations that he’s missing this week.

Day 1:
All is calm. This isn’t so bad, I think. The boys and I really bond when DH is away and we eat boiled eggs for dinner.

Day 2:
BB develops an ear infection, complicated by whining and exacerbated ten-fold by his noisy brother, who starts shouting erratically as though he’s got Tourette’s. We see the doctor and start antibiotics.

Day 3:
BB’s well enough for school and is all ready at 7.15am, but the bus doesn’t turn up. I phone the mum in charge and find out there’s no school. Teacher training. Sigh. (I swear, they have so many days off here that mums might as well tell themselves there’s no school, and then be pleasantly surprised when there is.)

Day 4:
The gas runs out in the middle of cooking dinner – time to call a gas delivery company (such as ‘Al Boom’ – yes, that’s its name, really!). TV stops working.

Day 5:
The boys are fighting like gerbils. They’re desperately trying to get their hands on our electronic devices. I eventually hide the iPad, and they go for my iPhone, and when I take that away too, LB grabs my Kindle like an addict and starts tapping it furiously in the hope it might have Minecraft on it (this can only end in tears). At bedtime, he tells me petulantly, “I’m not closing my eyes, I’m NOT!”

Happy days! Hurry home DH (and by way of a full disclosure, I actually wouldn’t swap roles in a million years.)

PS: If your husband is on the road a lot, do check out this article, in which Gulf ‘Travel Widows’ (including me!) reveal how they cope with the lifestyle.

The blinged-out art box

Posted on by

I’ve started to wonder what other mothers keep in their art boxes (I’m also wondering what else finds its way into party bags, after hearing about a mum who gave each child a live goldfish as a party favour – but that’s a whole new blog post).

I know there are crafty and not-so-crafty mothers, and I like to think I fall somewhere in between, but, somehow, my craft box always seems to be lacking something.

I bring tonnes of used paper home from work, which would otherwise go into the shredder, and I buy felt pens, pencils, glitter, etc, when I remember, but lately I’ve started wondering if I should be thinking outside the crayon and marker aisle.

Precious stones glitter on fingers and on art projects

Precious stones glitter on fingers and on art projects

This was brought home to me at approximately 5.15pm this evening – that joyous, twilighty zone when you’re busy with dinner, crabby kids and homework, and your offspring are hell-bent on pushing your buttons.

Nearly there, I’m thinking to myself, imagining that first sip of soothing sauvignon blanc sending post-bedtime relief coursing through my veins.

When…

“Mum!” my oldest bellows. “I forgot to tell you. I’ve got a project to do. I have to make an igloo, out of marshmallows.”

Hmm, timely, I think – given that it’ll soon be hotter than Hades in the UAE, and it’s nearly dinnertime.

“I have to take it in tomorrow. The teacher says so. Everyone else has done theirs’.”….. “I kept forgetting to tell you,” he says, in a quieter voice at least.

So, attempting to fake enthusiasm, I hurriedly spread newspaper over the dining table, find some cardboard, and try to creatively suggest how we can fashion an igloo out of marshmallows, glue and sellotape. (Could be worse, I decide; we could be making the Burj Khalifa out of yogurt pots).

It’s beginning to take shape; I thank my lucky stars that I actually have marshmallows in the house and skirt round the request for cotton wool snow by producing some toilet tissue (voila!). Then BB tells me about Xavier’s igloo.

“His is the best,” he says, clearly impressed. “Xavier used an upside-down china bowl for the igloo, and there’s a blue river running round it – made out of diamonds.”

Diamonds? Seriously? Could you get any flashier? Oh how very Dubai.

Silent Sunday: No more swimming in soup

Posted on by

Believe it or not, in the UAE many swimming pools are heated in winter – and chilled during the hot summer months. To our delight, this sign appeared at our compound pool last week.

Having a chiller installed means the pool will be swim-able all summer. If the water isn’t cooled from June to September, swimming feels more like taking a dip in a giant Pot Noodle. Now, if they could just work out how to cool the concrete so it doesn’t scold the ole’ feet.

Having a chiller installed means the pool will be swim-able all summer. If pool water isn’t cooled from June to September, swimming quickly starts to feel like you’re taking a dip in a giant Pot Noodle. Now, if they could just work out how to cool the concrete so it doesn’t scold the ole’ feet.

Hannah’s shoebox project

Posted on by

Last week, an extraordinary eight-year-old who overcame serious illness brought happiness to 56 labourers toiling in the heat outside our desert compound. This is the story of Hannah’s incredible spirit

xxxxxxx

German-born Hannah and her younger brother with the men who help build Dubai

Standing in bright sunshine, outside a dusty, hastily erected camp, a very special little girl brought beaming smiles to the faces of the construction workers gathered around her. “Thank you,” she told them, speaking off the cuff to at least 30 men in hard hats and overalls, “for making our road.”

It’s not every day that labourers in Dubai – most of whom have their own children living in countries such as Bangladesh and Pakistan – get to meet a blue-eyed, blonde haired little angel like Hannah. The workers at the back craned their necks to see, and everyone listened intently, even if they didn’t fully understand the English, to hear what Hannah, aged 8, had to say.

xxxxxxxx

Hannah presented the gifts individually

After her impromptu speech, delivered with the confidence of a child much older, there were more smiles as Hannah handed out gifts, 56 in total, to the crowd. The bags, crammed full of goodies, were the culmination of an initiative she had dreamt up and organised herself. Quite extraordinary. Except we already knew that about Hannah – who, five years ago, beat cancer.

Battling illness
Hannah, from Munich, Germany, was almost three when her mother was given the devastating news that she had a childhood cancer called Wilms’ tumour. A type of kidney cancer, it affects 500 children a year in the US. “I took her to the doctor because she had a swollen belly,” says her mum Kate Mestermann, a midwife. “It wasn’t all that noticeable, but my mother kept telling me to get it checked out.”

And thank goodness she did, because within days cancer had been diagnosed. “The doctors sat me down and told me,” says Kate, recalling the shock. “My husband, a pilot, was away, upgrading to become a captain. I didn’t tell him that day because he was about to do his final check ride. When he called afterwards to let me know he’d passed, I had to tell him our daughter had cancer.”

Hannah had chemotherapy for several weeks, followed by surgery to remove the kidney. As her other kidney showed signs of developing the same tumour, she then underwent another 20 weeks of grueling chemo. “She lost all her hair and suffered from sickness,” says her Dad Marc. “It became daily life for us, to be honest, but anyone with us who saw her suffering the chemo side effects was quite shocked.”

xxxxxxx

Shopping done and bags packed

Five years later and now living in Dubai, cancer survivor Hannah is a healthy, happy little girl, who knows that having beaten this illness, she’s got what it takes to tackle whatever life throws at her. “The saying, ‘God won’t give you more than you can handle’ definitely applies to our daughter,” says Marc. She also displays a remarkable and highly developed sensitivity to others – personality traits that led to her shoebox project idea.

“We were driving along our compound road, and she looked out at the workers, who for months have been building a new access road through our patch of desert, and said, ‘We should do something to thank them.’ It was all her idea,” says Kate.

Shortly after that, Hannah’s shoebox project started taking shape. She started with a mind map, showing how she’d raise money, then, with her parents’ help, set about fundraising. “She approached the managers of our local stores to ask them to donate raffle prizes, and sent emails,” says Kate. “Hannah also went door-to-door around the compound, selling cookies, brownies and cupcakes that we’d made. In total, she collected 3,800dhs.”

It was then time to hit the retail store Carrefour, with a lengthy grocery list. Items she purchased to put in each bag included rice, lentils, sunflower oil, sugar, teabags and other food items; toiletries such as razors, shaving cream, toothpaste, soap and deodorant; and pillow cases and sheets.

If you don’t live in Dubai, you might wonder why people here would need basic items like this, but the truth is Dubai’s labourers are paid a pittance. They pay employment agencies to get here – to escape the poverty of their home countries – and instead toil for low pay in the extreme heat of one of the world’s richest economies. All, or nearly all, of the money they earn – which can be as little as £150 a month – is sent back to their families. They live in crowded labour camps, where facilities are basic, and work long shifts (you can read more about this here).

xxxxxx

Cancer survivor Hannah is full of determination

Whilst it’s clearly very wrong that their employers think it’s okay to bring them over here and pay them so little that charity drives are needed to provide essentials, you only have to see the radiant smiles on their faces when strangers show them kindness to understand how appreciated charity boxes are.

“It was wonderful to see the different reactions and expressions on their faces when we did the handover,” says Kate. “And Hannah took it all in her stride – that’s just how she is. Her next project is already on her mind.”

I’m sure I speak for everyone in our compound when I say we’re all moved by Hannah’s story. As one resident put it, “What a great thing! I wish more people in the world could be as super sensitive as you sweet angel.”

Tittering Tuesday

Posted on by

I must say, signs like this do brighten up the ole’ commute to work. Thank you to my friend K for snapping this while out and about in Dubai. Just a quickie tonight…back soon!

backside entrance

A mother’s illusion

Posted on by

“Mummy, when you went to the hospital to be chopped up, did they have a party?”

It was a question I wasn’t expecting to hear from my youngest son. I knew what he was referring to – my surgery last week, but good Lord, what on earth did he think had happened? Some kind of ultimate mummy sacrifice?

On the day, they didn’t even know where I was going. I think they just thought I was at work a long time.

But, of course, when I got home, we had to explain why they couldn’t jump on me; why I had a ‘big ouch’ that hurt and why I couldn’t carry LB or even do bear hugs.

“A party?” I responded. “Erm, no, it wasn’t a party LB.”

“Oh.” [looks disappointed]. “But wasn’t there a wabbit? A white one?”

And for my next trick, mum will pull a white rabbit out of a hat

For my next trick, mum will pull a rabbit out of a hat

“There was no rabbit, just the doctors, and nurses – rabbits aren’t allowed. Sorry darling.”

“But they chopped you in half, didn’t they?” [makes sawing motion].

And the penny dropped: he thought I was the (glamorous? ha!) female assistant in a magic show, the lady who gets put in a box and apparently sawn in half.

The one who might just look like she’s playing a supporting role to the magician, but is, in fact, making the mechanics of the illusion work.

And, actually, come to think of it, that IS exactly how I feel in my role as mother much of the time. Thanks LB, you hit the nail on the head!

Unbeliebable!

Posted on by

Last night, I was rather glad to be the mother of boys and not girls.

Specifically, girls who adore Justin Bieber and needed to be accompanied (at a cost of 1,400dhs/£250 for a family of four) to his much-anticipated, sold-out concert in Dubai. To which he showed up two hours late, on a school night. AGAIN!

My DH and I had been wondering if the tardy Canadian pop diva actually knew where Dubai was. Turns out he did, with rumours he was even looking for a house here.

His entourage reportedly booked out 60 rooms at two different hotels in the city, and were scouting around for things to keep the teenage star out of trouble (at 19, he’s too young to drink in Dubai, a fact one club got round by shipping in a specially made 24-carat gold ping pong table to keep him occupied).

Despite some loud booing, most people stuck it out

Despite some loud booing, most people stuck it out

During the day yesterday, Bieber fever reached a new height, with an unconfirmed sighting at the Dubai Mall resulting in the megamall being mobbed by hundreds of screaming pre-teens, chanting ‘We want Justin’ as they scoured the hallways hoping for a glimpse of their heartthrob.

But, how much the Biebster cares about these adoring fans is what bothers me. Because it seems he learnt nothing from the backlash that took place after he was several hours late to his London show at the O2 Arena in March.

Yes, that’s right, it appears he forgot, once again, that a large part of his fan base are pre-pubescent eight-year-olds and younger, who are normally tucked up in bed by eight on Saturday night. (Sunday being the start of the school/work week in Dubai.) Youngsters who tend to not do so well when kept waiting in a hot, crowded arena for hours.

Doors opened at the Sevens Stadium at 5; from 8pm the organisers told the 27,000-strong crowd that he was ‘on his way’; and Justin eventually came on stage at about 10pm. There were reports of young beliebers fainting at the outdoor venue (evening temperatures in Dubai in May are on the warm side) and others falling asleep on the grass. Poor kids. I can just imagine the disappointment. And the anger parents must have felt.

“The children were tired by 10 and wanted to go home,” said my friend. “When he started, they perked up a little, but my son was asleep for the last 30 minutes on my husband’s lap and my daughter had just had enough.”

I’ve no doubt he put on a great show once it got going, and there will be kids (the ones who managed to stay awake) who want to go again tonight, but let’s hope he shows Dubai a bit more respect at his second concert later today.

TOP TWEET: @arabiaenquirer: EXCLUSIVE: JUSTIN BIEBER blames two-hour delay on “dodgy shawarma”

TOP FACEBOOK UPDATE: “Nuf respect to my DH who has finally accepted that he is, in fact, the best person to escort our daughter to the Justin Bieber concert tonight. She had an eureka moment last week when she noticed how much higher up his shoulders were than mine. … (phew!)”

TOP TIP FOR TONIGHT: If he’s late, just think: the chance to hear 20,000 pre-teens scream at the same time is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Good luck – and don’t forget the ear plugs