Things are slowing down

Tuesday 18 September 2007

Heard nothing from the gaffer all day, no doubt he is still trying to get the arrangements for the material shipments organised. Ramadan has been running for something like 5 days now and its effect is plain to see. Most of the shops this afternoon had the shutters pulled down and those that didn’t might just as well have had because invariably the proprietors’ were asleep inside. Yet come 1830 tonight (or thereabouts) when to sun goes down they will all be out partying throughout the night.

Although the gaffer is a Muslim it appears he left his homeland whilst a child and has been living in the USA ever since. When we get to Mogadishu it will be the first time that he has returned to his homeland.

He is beginning to see my point about this being the wrong time of year to do anything in a Muslim land. He scoffed at the idea when I first mentioned it but I’m sure he is beginning to see how things really work, or should I say don’t work during the month of Ramadan.

Before I leave here I want to arrange to break the fast in one of the 7 star hotels that they have here. These establishments set up large exotic traditional tents where you recline on cushions and get served sumptuous foods whilst watching entertainment. I have never done it in a hotel environment but during my younger days in the Middle East have sometimes been invited to a local affair which was quite an eye opener. Even in the middle of nowhere the soft furnishing in these tents was very exotic and comfortable. I’m looking forward to seeing a 7 star hotel affair which should be quite magnificent.

Vegetation Day

Today is vegetation day. Since being here I have done nothing but walk, walk and walk.

Not having to get up for any reason this morning I relaxed in bed after the alarm rang and suddenly realised just how tired I am. With temperatures’ in the 40’s and extremely high humidity I guess my poor old body has begun to protest.

I thought “sod it”, turned over and went back to sleep. It was nearly three in the afternoon when I awoke again so I guess I must have needed it.

So here I am making my breakfast in my room in the middle of the afternoon; very slovenly indeed. What’s more, when I am finished I think I shall take another nap before hitting the streets this evening on another shopping expedition.

I have also spotted a Moroccan restaurant in a side street close to here that I want to look at. If I can find the place again I will have a Tagine tonight for my evening meal.

In all my wonderings around this town I have not yet come across a “Harry’s Bar.”

In any city worth its name there is always a Harry’s Bar. Often full of old long term British expatriate drunks and the obligatory BBC reporter. I need to look in the more salubrious parts of town I guess. I might even find an Irish pub or two, both of these types of places being good locations to pick up the scoop on the best places to eat, drink and be merry.

Well the Tagine didn’t materialise because I just couldn’t find the Moroccan place again, however, I did find a very smart (for the area) place that described itself as an Indian/Chinese/Arabic restaurant. It was a typical type place for the area, bare Formica tables, no decorations on the walls, no eating utensils etc but somehow it just looked so much nicer than the average eating place in these parts of town. I couldn’t really put my finger on what they had done differently, but somehow it just appeared smarter than average.

The chap who had invited me in to look around spoke very good English so I just asked if he could do a very spicy Chicken Jalfrezi made with chicken breast with a couple of garlic nans. No problem says he and proceeded to dish up a fantastic tasting curry, decently cooked nan breads and a nice little salad. The coffee was also delicious. It was a bit overpriced for the area but at 18 dinah was fantastic value for money ($5.14 or £2.57); there is no doubt I will be around there in the morning for a breakfast takeaway. I noticed in the window a certificate from a government department authorizing them to serve takeaways between 0800 and 1200hrs during the month of Ramadan. Very civilised indeed!

It will be just like when I lived in Singapore during the 60’s when I started every day with a curry soup and a couple of chapattis.

After finishing the meal I once again wondered the area, poking around the small shops and investigating narrow alleyways that contained shops selling items that you had to wonder from where the customers came. One shop was bursting to the seams with electric guitars; now who the hell around here would need a guitar I ask myself?

Once again I didn’t see another white man during the whole evening; I am a definite oddity around here for sure. Despite being the odd man out I feel completely safe and in no way intimidated.

I picked myself a new USB Bluetooth dongle for the computer and a pair of Bluetooth headphones that I can use with the computer or my new cell phone which also includes a music player.

Sunday 16 September 2007

Breakfast from my favourite Indian restaurant set me up for the day.

Another day wondering around the town but this time with a definite aim in life; the boss decided we needed a few UPS’s for the computers we will be installing on the Mogadishu system.

I found a store selling some decent UPS’s manufactured by a reputable American manufacturer. However, they also stocked some similar specification devices manufactured in China that cost 25% of the cost of the American ones.

Bloody hell, these guys will rule the world at the rate they are going.

The company I work for bought a Chinese car called a Geeley which appears to be a direct copy of a Japanese vehicle. Maybe it is made under license and is not a copy, but whatever the bloody thing only cost just over £4000 brand new. That’s for a 1.8 litre fuel injected engine with all the gizmo’s anyone could want. There is even a USB port on the dash to plug in your iPod or whatever so it can play through the car stereo system. They are certainly learning to produce decent kit even if they do slip up with paint containing lead on children’s toys or whatever.

Having found the UPS’s early in my travels I was left with nothing to do for the rest of the day. Being as we are in the Holy Month of Ramadan no café’s were open, so I couldn’t indulge in my favourite pastime…..tasting food! It certainly took the attraction off wondering around the spam belt of Dubai.

Monday 17 September 2007

Still nothing to do so once again I went for a wonder around. Today I went down to the river up which junks from around the Arabian Sea sail to dump their cargos. I thought this would be a reasonably comfortable walk despite the 40 degree plus temperatures. Unfortunately, there is a metro construction project in progress which blocked my intended route. I guess this put a couple of miles on my journey and overstretched my endurance somewhat. No watering holes being open due to Ramadan means I was suffering somewhat by the time I made it back to the hotel. Despite this it was an interesting journey.

To see cargos just piled on the side of the road was a strange sight. I wondered what would happen if you were to leave a pile of HD Televisions at the side of the Thames in London? There must have been millions of dollar worth of merchandise lying unattended, Large American style refrigerators, home entertainment systems, TV’s and what have you seemingly free for the taking!

I also passed an area selling fishing gear. It is strange how in this part of the world that purveyor of particular types of items tend to set up shop in the same area. As fishing was once a passion of mine many years ago, it gave me great pleasure to mooch around the shops and drool at the items on display. Truth be told, I was tempted to get myself a beach casting outfit to see if I could still cast a six ounce lead weight 180 -190 yards. Back in the days when fishing was my passion I seem to remember the world record for a six ounce lead was around 212 yards by a bloke using an Abu 464 rod and Abu 6000C reel.

I distinctly remember pacing out the distance on top of the cliffs in Dover and practicing for hours trying to approach the record distance after I bought a set of Abu fishing gear.

Once again I saw no white faces on my journey.

On the way back I slipped into a building that was under renovation for a threefold purpose. Firstly I was in desperate need to relieve my bladder, secondly my temperature was dangerously high and last but not least I was dying for a smoke. After a ten minute rest I crawled back to the hotel, sat in the shower stall and attempted to cool myself in what passes for cold water over here.

Once again I broke the fast in my favourite Indian restaurant. It is a tiny place but I honestly think it serves some of the tastiest Indian food that I have had the enjoyment of eating. Truly magnificent!

No sooner had I returned to my hotel than the gaffer rang and asked me to meet him in a Somali run hotel for a meal with some of his mates. As much as I want to try Somali food before I travel over there, I had to explain that I was well and fully stuffed from gorging myself in the Indian place and that I could not possibly accept the invitation. A great pity but serves me right for being so greedy in the Indian joint.

Apparently, he breaks the fast in the traditional way with a light snack of dates, nots and fruit, leaving the great gorging session until later in the evening.

No wonder these Muslim guys seem incapable of work during Ramadan. They fast all day and party all night leaving very little time to sleep

Ramadan

I awoke to a surprise, finding that Ramadan had started. I was sat in my favourite café in the gold souq waiting for the place to open when a female motioned towards me to put out my cigarette. It was then that it dawned on me that I would have to wait for the sun to go down before any café would open.

Back to the hotel to make myself a cup of tea, then out to a supermarket to buy bread, butter and cheese etc; no need for me to fast during the daylight hours. Met with the boss and he asked me to show him where I had seen all the security shops. He asked me to negotiate a price for 1000 hand held body scanners for which he was quoted $200 each in the USA. I got a quote for $80 each and the gaffer seemed quite pleased.

Why does he want me to negotiate prices?

Had a sleep during the afternoon and went to a Lebanese café for dinner. Decided upon a fillet steak but sorry to say it wasn’t much cop.

Nothing Going on

Nothing to do today so went back to the Gitex Technology show and spent more time in the consumer section. Wish I had thought to bring a load of dollars because the show was closing at 1700 hrs and many exhibitors were selling what they had bought to show at very good prices.

I could easily have spent a year’s wages and still been drooling after lots more of the gizmo’s on display.

I just wonder how long it will be before I'm able to afford all the things on my wish list.

I have got my cell phone and camera that I wished for and now just need to get a truly effective portable computer in a very small format.

Gitex Exhibition

I meet the boss in the Gold Souq. He is still having trouble with the freight arrangements and has nothing for me to do. I therefore decide to visit the Gitex Technology Week exhibition. I hop a taxi out to the convention centre and am amazed at the size of the site. In true modern Dubai style the place is immaculate and every hi-tech vendor on earth has stands to show off their wares.

I visit the Next Generation Network boys that I have been dealing with by email and phone for several months from my base in Nigeria. It was good to see them all together in the flesh and put faces to the voices that were so familiar. We chat for an hour or so, agree to meet up in Nigeria in a month or so and I spend another few hours looking at the latest communication devices from many manufacturers.

Knowing that there was also a consumer electronics show I walk over to see what was on offer. This was on the far side of the convention centre and took quite a while to reach.

The contrast in the style of the exhibition was immediately apparent. Whereas the communication exhibition was quiet and professional, the consumer show was pure hype. There were exotic sound systems blasting music, scantily clad women gyrating on the stands and hundreds of large screen LCD monitors showing the capabilities of the latest High Definition video devices. One particular manufacturer was showing 3D displays which will probably make their way to market very soon.

Whereas the consultants and sales persons on the communication stands were mostly men and many of them old into the bargain, it would seem to do the same job on the consumer stands one had to be female, attractive and young.

I enjoyed the couple of hours wandering around playing with cameras and computers and mentally spending thousands of pounds on my dream hi-tech home.

Tomorrow is the last day of the exhibition and I shall return to see if any of the kit is for sale. I cannot see any reason for these people to take demonstration kit back to their respective manufacturer’s premises. Surely it would make more sense to sell it?

Certainly a chap from the communication show is going to sell me a couple of secure phones that work on a GSM system that I want to take to Mogadishu to try and tempt the security people there.

Eventually I hop onto a courtesy bus back to the car park and taxi station and take another cab back to the ethnic area to hunt down some food.

Walking along the streets looking for something interesting I suddenly smell this heavenly aroma. It is coming from an open window of a restaurant where a chef is cooking food overlooking the street and serving food into a seating area behind him. The place was called the Tehran something or other so I guess it was an Iranian joint.

He had an array of tins containing unknown substances and was scooping spoonfuls onto a large slightly bowl shaped tin cooking surface. The smells were incredible. I couldn’t speak whatever language he spoke and his English was non existent. Not wanting to miss the chance I did a sort of parody of a drunken chicken, pointed at some chillies and made drooling expressions and looked at him hopefully. He smiled and waved me towards the door.

It was a typical third world restaurant, bare tables, no cutlery and everyone eating with their hands. No sooner had I sat down than a young kid bought a bowl of salad and some large flat bread. This was followed by a stainless steel mug and a jug of iced water. Soon a large steaming bowl of “whatever it was” was placed in front of me. It looked like a kind of stew or curry containing the chicken and what appeared to be a load of chopped vegetables, chick peas and substances unknown.

Whatever it was it was absolutely gorgeous. I carefully placed my left hand under my thigh and managed to eat with my right hand in conformance with their custom. There was no predominant flavour that I could recognise apart from some citrano that had been finely chopped and used as a decoration on the surface of the stew. However, the overall taste was one to die for and I shall head there for breakfast in the morning for sure.

It was the perfect end of a really nice day.

I got back to the hotel only to receive a phone call from the boss to meet him in the Gold Souq. All he said was that tomorrow was also a write off and did I want to go swimming at 0500 in the morning at a fantastic beach. I declined on account of needing my beauty sleep and wondered back to a Lebanese joint close to the hotel to inhale the smell of the hubbly bubbly pipes whilst having a coffee and a chat with the proprietor. He at least talks sense.

I find a Pub

Met Haji in the small café in the Gold Souq where I can use the free Hot Spot to check my mail and play on the internet whilst having a breakfast. Most of the day is spent in there whilst Haji regales me with all the business deals he has done over the years. All are described as hugely successful so one wonders if they were so good, why is he out in the field and not directing operations from an office in the Trump Tower or wherever. We eventually go to the airport to meet his friend who is coming in from the USA. He turns out to be another Somali guy and they both switch to Arabic and I do not understand one word all the way back from the Airport. This pisses me off somewhat so when we reach a street in the area of my hotel, I tell the driver to stop, wish the guys a good day and say I am off shopping and will leave you two guys to catch up with each other.

I wonder the streets, window shop, stop for an odd coffee now and again and eventually get back into my favourite area of the immigrant population.

Another few hours are spent watching various craftsmen making everything from suits and shirts, paintings, sculptures, carvings or just sitting around smoking hubble bubble pipes.

Despite having picked at various delicacies from various street vendors I suddenly get the urge to sit down in air conditioned splendour and eat a first class meal. Back to the hotel for a quick shower and change and head for the Indian pub that I found last night. All I am thinking of is getting to the Golden Fork which everyone had waxed lyrical about the previous evening. It took me some time to locate the pub but I was soon inside and sipping a cold beer. After getting the directions to the Golden Fork written on a serviette I trog off again in search of gastronomic bliss, almost drooling at the though of what I would consume.

All I can say is I wished the journey had lasted longer than the five minutes it took me to reach my destination. The anticipation was preferable to the reality. When I looked at the place it sort of reminded me of a McDonalds with the addition of tablecloths’.

I was disappointed to say the least but knowing appearances can be deceptive decided to go in and give it a try.

To be honest the food was edible but that is all I can say. Perhaps the cook was having a bad day, maybe he was off and a doorman was standing in; whatever, it was a not at all as good as I had been lead to believe.

I wander back to my hotel feeling really down.

A Tourist in Dubai

So it’s Sunday today and that is a normal day at work in these here parts. However, the chap I am doing this job for is a naturalised American and I guess he is sticking to the rules from back home. In other words, today is a day off.

Having purchased a new camera I decided to act the tourist and see a bit of Dubai. What became apparent was that my idea of seeing the sights is obviously at odds with the more normal tourist from the Northern hemisphere.

I worked that out all my own when after trekking around for 12 hours I had not spotted a single other white man.

Talking to a local Indian businessman, he explained that it is thought that there are around 140 different ethnic communities settled in the area that I decided to explore. That is the old town area, something that you never see in the glossy modern images projected by the PR gurus that promote the modern day Dubai.

There is no doubt that the modern day Dubai is an impressive sight. The building rising from the desert floor gleam in the sun and catch the reflections from the sky and the blue waters of the Arabian Gulf. The worlds tallest building is already reaching an impressive height and the artist impressions of the finished building shows that the ambitions around these parts is to obtain the best of the best.

Sumptuously comfortable hotels surround shops that satisfy the whims of the multi millionaires that cruise the wide modern roads in the latest most expensive pieces of machinery that the motor industry can manufacture.

No need to go to a motor show from here. Stand at any roadside for 5 minutes and you will be passed by the latest and greatest from Rolls, Ferrari, Porsche, Masserati, Lexus and indeed examples from every manufacturer of these expensive Boyz Toyz.

Dream of any kind of exotic foodstuff and there will be a restaurant to satisfy your needs. Yes indeed, this is all top of the range living.

However, just driving around this environment during the course of a working day satisfies all my desires as far as rubber necking Dubai is concerned.

I went a little outside town, just down the coast to see how the other half live. Here is an area where all the migrant workers live cheek and jowl with each other in apparent harmony. The sights, sounds and smells are as different as chalk is to cheese.

Another interesting development is that their shops seemed grouped together by the goods on sale. The result is that one can walk for several blocks and see nothing but household electrical goods and then drift into an area where all one can see is cotton made clothing. Another couple of blocks and it is into and area devoted to plumbing apparatus moving on to an area satisfying the needs of the Hi-Fi enthusiast.

Many of these shops are marked “Wholesale Only” but on only one occasion did a proprietor point out this fact when I entered to ask questions about a particular item.

In contrast to the wide well maintained roads of the modern Dubai , this is a maze of narrow alleyways with only an occasional car. Handcarts seem to be the order of the day as sweating men transport goods to the shops in the area.

The contrast between the affluent and the poor areas could not be more stark.

I lunch in a very authentic Indian café and enjoy every bite.

Throughout the day I pass right through this maze of small businesses and get into a slightly more upmarket area containing more ‘normal’ type shops all brightly decorated with blazing neon signs that flash, strobe and assault your visual senses. It is almost a carnival atmosphere. I come across another Indian establishment advertising itself as a nightclub, restaurant and bar.

I enter and immediately appreciate the cool air conditioned atmosphere and wander around the establishment to see what is what. I finally make my way into the bar which seems to be virtually full of a boisterous clientele.

Grabbing the last bar stool I sit and sip an ice cold beer and realise I have been wandering around for over twelve hours. The bird behind the counter is from the Philippines and manages to keep up with the six or seven Indian girls dressed in white Sari’s who are the waiting wenches. There is something incongruous seeing Sari clad Indian girls serving drinks and joking with the customers but I soon adjust.

I get chatting with a few of the blokes at the bar. We have one guy who owns a construction company and another who has a fire suppression and security outfit. The general opinion is that I am mad to be going to Mogadishu and in all honesty I cannot disagree with their sentiments.

I ask the Philippine girl if she knows any Philippine restaurants and she and the customers rave on about a place called the Golden Fork and I resolve to visit the place as soon as possible.

Finishing my fourth beer I prepare to leave when another beer appears in front of me. Apparently there is a buy 4 and get one free deal so I settle back down to drink my free gift.

Walking outside I am immediately hit with the hot moist atmosphere and decide to take a taxi back to the hotel. I shower and collapse into bed more knackered that I can remember being in years.

Dubai – Aba Dhabi

Woke up pretty late, the flight and the gastronomic over indulgence must have taken their toll. I keep forgetting that I’m no longer a teenager.

No big problem because today we are travelling to Abu Dhabi to buy an airline luggage x-ray machine. This job keeps getting bigger and this is something else I am supposed to be installing and setting up on arrival in Mogadishu.

The drive is just a mad charge along an 8 lane highway that links the two cities. The amount of sand suspended in the air gave the appearance of a thick early morning mist. This really spoilt the drive because visibility was really poor.

The company we went to see were pretty switched on, ISO 9000 registered and all that. They keep a selection of their wares in the store adjacent to the office and a warehouse to keep the majority of their holding. Suffice to say we saw what we needed right out of their office store so there was no need to travel to their warehouse. Being as we had finished early, they duly took us out to lunch.

Being as they gave me a choice of venue I naturally asked for Indian as it is one of my favourites; as it turned out it was a very good choice because the place they took us to was excellent. A tremendous buffet was laid out and although I normally avoid them like the plague I dove right in with the rest of them.

Yet another day that I finish stuffed to the gills. Whatever, I shall make the most of my time here for I fear that once in Mogadishu I will probably be on a starvation diet.

We arrived back in Dubai around 1900hrs and I dropped off at the hotel, had a quick shower and hit the Souq.

My first purchase was a Nokia N95 which seems quite an impressive piece of kit that includes a GPS positioning system. I picked up a kettle and tea/coffee making kit for Mogadishu just in case things are as bleak as I suspect.

The deeper I got into the Souq the more of my sense drained from my body and a Rolex watch found itself a new home strapped to my wrist.

In my way out of the souq I came across a camera dealer who had an impressive array of the latest digital cameras. I managed to avoid a great bag full of SLR bodies and lenses but still managed to knock a hole in my dollars by purchasing one of the new Sony Cybershot models with enough Mega Pixels to print up to A3 sized photos. Had to buy a much bigger memory module to allow room to store sufficient high resolution snaps because the supplied on board memory was ridiculously small.

What I like about the camera is the small size that should allow me to snap pics without sticking out like a Japanese tourist. I recon some of the characters hanging around Mogadishu will not wish to be photographed. It will fit inside a cigarette packet so it should do the trick.

Needless to say it was around 0300hrs this morning before I finished playing with my new boyz toyz.

Addis Ababa – Dubai

The flight from Addis Ababa to Dubai not quite as good as the first leg had been. The plane was not in as good condition as the first one but was by no means an old oiler.

Food service included an extra cart coming along between the Hor Dourves and main course which presented a selection of Ethiopian food. When asked if I would like to try any I replied I would like to try the lot. The girl took me at my word and I was presented with a bewildering array of strange looking dishes. Needless to say I ploughed through them all and found nothing I disliked and a few that I’d like to take a few bucket full’s home. Unfortunately, I have no idea what any of it was called so the whole exercise to be a waste of time except in proving that I am a pig.

Needless to say it was a bit of a struggle to eat my fillet steak main course but I persevered!

On landing and after collecting luggage and clearing passport and customs facilities I was met outside by a chap who was not a driver as he appeared, but the chap I am coming to do the job for. He must have had a stressful day.

He took me back to the hotel; I showered and changed and he called and insisted he take me to dinner.

I tried my hardest to convince him I was stuffed but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

It was only the fact that the food was so good in the Lebanese restaurant that we visited that I managed to eat my order.

After dinner we went window shopping around a couple of absolutely exquisite shopping malls. It is easy to see that Dubai is choc full of affluent people. Last time I saw shops and contents of this quality was when I last visited Hong Kong.

Anyway, it was a good opportunity to note the prices of the things that I want to buy before leaving here.

Of course I will not shop in these rich boy shops, I shall visit the souks where one can haggle over a cup of tea whilst sat crossed legged on a threadbare carpet.

I now have an idea of prices in Dubai which are certainly pretty good but I shall pitch my opening offers 20 – 25% below these shops.

If you pitch too high you lose money; and if you pitch too low below the real cost of an item, the Arab traders have no respect for you. In either case it is not so much fun because they will not bargain with an idiot.

All the shops seem to stay open till after midnight.

I am looking forward to going out in search of my Boyz Toyz.

Left Addis Abba and arrived Dubai at 1530.

Food not quite as good but there was an extra trolly. A selection of Ethiopian food. Tried them all.

First time I’ve really felt full up for ages.

Met Haji and drove to Hotel. 2 Star not very nice place. Located on edge of an old part of town that is full of little shops run by Indians or whatever immigrants are around.

Lagos – Addis Ababa

The drive to the airport was less traumatic than yesterday. The weather, whilst not perfect, was not as hostile as yesterday; which in turn tends to calm the local drivers from their frenzied approach I saw yesterday. The driving habits here are as bad as any I have witnessed anywhere in the world. On days like yesterday when the weather turns foul, somehow, their driving gets even worse then normal. Also, I left in plenty of time to take care of any eventuality and not be stressed by the inevitable hold ups.

In fact I arrived at the airport over 4 hours before boarding time, as relaxed as it is ever possible to get around here.

The air port was as full as I have ever seen it. There was not a square foot of unoccupied space and moving around was difficult to say the least. I witnessed many a harassed person, trying their best to move with speed, being frustrated to the point of tears. Other types of persons were driven to the point of physical violence and mild scuffles were in evidence as I slowly made my way to the airline office to collect my ticket.

Today, no problems, my ticket showed up on the system and it was time to make my way from the airline office on the mezzanine floor back down into the chaos of the departure hall.

I slowly moved back down to the check-in desk, got my boarding card and negotiated the crush to get to the departure gate. Once through, it was just a matter of going through security, immigration, and a money laundering point where questions about how much currency you were holding were asked.

The contrast once past passport control is amazing. The place always seems deserted or at least very calm compared with the departure hall. You have to wonder why the contrast is so stark. Maybe every traveller brings twenty members of their family to see them off. No matter what, it is a relief to get into this area. I make my way to the First class lounge and partake of the facilities in a relaxed and happy mood.

I have some 90 minutes before boarding and I enjoy a few glasses of Jack Daniels courtesy of the airline.

Eventually the flight was called and I make my way to the gate. The boarding was actually quite organised, each row in the aircraft being called in turn. Once I got settled in seat number 01A right up the sharp end of the aircraft, I was served a glass of Champaign. This is the way to travel.

Never having flown Ethiopian Airline before I had assumed it was just another Mickey Mouse African airline. Nothing could be further from the truth. The little Boeing jet looked spick and span, the cabin staff was superb and the meal served was very enjoyable. Unfortunately, no local food, one could have been sat in any French restaurant. The Champaign was Mumm, the Chateau Nerf du pape was excellent, and the glass of port which was served by the girl on the cheese trolley went down a treat.

Even the after dinner Brandy was served out of an expensive bottle and I like to think the contents matched the label, alas I rarely drink brandy so couldn’t really say.

I’ve had a small after dinner nap, tapped in these few words and the aircraft has descended to the point of meeting the high altitude clouds and the ride has become somewhat choppy. I am going to pack up now as I mentally congratulate Ethiopian Airlines on a fine flight. Certainly if the rest of the journey is as pleasant as this I shall be a very happy puppy when I reach my destination.

Well the captain has taken his foot off the gas or we have run out of fuel. We are definitely going down hill now so I better clear my area.

Another try Tonight

After several midnight phone calls and a couple of emails I am booked on this evening’s flight to Addis Abebi. The new schedule also includes enough time to try some Ethiopian Food during the stopover before my onward leg to Dubai.
Of course, the Airport food may be as genuine as the so called English food one would get in Heathrow airport.
They are Club Class tickets, it's an Ethiopian Airline, so who knows there may even be some edible local food on board.
I never try to imagine what the airline food will be like when flying an airline that is new to me. Generally it is all pretty crap but occasionally one gets treated to a surprise. Air France once surprised my with a lamb chop that was as good as I have ever tasted and Air Maroc once supplied me with wine that I really, really liked.
There was also a memorable trip back from Manila in the Philippines. Having arrived at check in well inside the required time (This was way before the current security situation) I found they had stopped issuing boarding cards. After queuing in the Airline Office I explained to the attendant that, "Hey look fella, I've been queuing here for some time and I'm still inside the time limit for the London flight......What's the score?"
Several phone calls and a few walkie talkie conversations later I was informed cabin doors had closed and the best they could do was give me accommodation and book me for the following evening. I accepted gracefully but warned the guy in reception that he had better get the story straight as I would be writing a pretty strong letter to the Head Honcho.

I digress at this point. Have you ever noticed how someone who flies frequently never gets upset at airport staff? That this is left to the bloody tourist types of the world who step on aircraft maybe one or twice a year. To see them screaming and shouting is a familiar sight if one is ever unfortunate enough to travel through airports that have a lot of tourist traffic. End of rant.
Turning up the following evening I had a VIP sticker placed on my lapel as soon as my name was tapped into the system. I was then led to a VIP lounge and presented with the kind of things found in all executive club airport lounges. Except for one difference; instead of the assortment of free food and beverages, this place presented a bloody banquet. Tasting all the things that one normally gets little chance to try is one of life's pleasures. But when it is unexpected and free of charge it is so much better.
Normally I get to the airport and consider it is something to be endured, somewhere to while away the time whilst dreaming of whatever local delicates I am looking forward to at my destination.

But here I was after spending four months eating my way around the Islands of the Philippines being given an all in one sitting, all of the beautiful things I had tried during my stay there and some more besides. What a pleasant surprise.

Followed by a flight attendant who bought my boarding card whilst I was tackling some serious caviar and other delights. It was some time before I noticed I had been bumped up to 1^st Class.

Thinking about it, the food on that Manilla – London leg of my journey was also very good. But I had never thought much about it because of what happened up front of the almost deserted First Class section just blew my mind. And I do remember what else it blew.

You read about these things and wonder if they ever happen.

All I can say is, it did to me.

I should be so lucky on tonights flight. No chance I am afraid, wrong part of the world on the wrong airline and I doubt anyone gets it twice in one lifetime. (At 36,000 feet and for free I mean)

No Ticket

Getting to Lagos International Airport from the area where I live is an incredible hassle. Although not far in distance, in terms of time it can be anything from 30 minutes to the agonizingly slow 4hrs 20 minutes that it took returning home yesterday.

The 30 minute trip can only be undertaken in the small hours and if riding with a fully armed escort. At other times of the day the length of the journey depends on factors such as the weather, breakdowns, accidents, road blocks, how many traders choose to set up shop on the highway or indeed the quite unexplainable antics of the local drivers.

I swear that if you took any three of them and placed them in a car park the size of Wembly stadium they would contrive to cause a traffic jam.

The journey to the airport started with frustration of the driver not turning up on time compounded by the need to stop for fuel.

I arrived at the time when the plane should have been taking off but luckily there had been a delay, presumably caused by the extremely bad weather.

My E-Ticket should have been waiting at check-in but true to form someone had screwed up. I needed to go to the Ethiopian Airlines office to claim the ticket.

Now in most other airports of the world this would be a simple process, but I am in Lagos. Traversing the airport one is confronted with all kinds of touts trying to ‘help’ you on you way. Nor are their any clear pathways between the various areas of the complex. Presumably because no one thought of putting in passenger lounges or seating areas, people are just standing or sitting around at random.

It is necessary to walk the path of a very drunk person to thread oneself around obstacles whilst dragging your reluctant luggage to your destination. True to form the lifts are not working so it is another obstacle for my reluctant case.

Arriving at the Airline Office I had trouble opening the door, forcing myself inside me found the small office absolutely packed with a teeming mass of humanity all vying for the attention of two attendants. Getting any kind of service was obviously going to take too long so I retreated outside and engaged the services of a powerfully built tout who then proceeded to batter his way towards the counter of the office. On reaching the counter he simple leaned over and held my passport under the nose of one of the officials. When the official had finished with the person he had been dealing with, he turned his attention to my passport. All was to no avail, my E-Ticket had failed to materialise.

The journey back home was even longer than the outward leg taking us some 4hrs and 20min to reach Victoria Island.

Having dreamt of sleeping in a 5 Star hotel scoffing gourmet food, the thought of retuning to VI was not pleasant considering the state of the traffic.

Having purchased a top up scratch card for my phone my driver proceeds to destroy the bloody thing by removing the numbers when he scratched to reveal the top up code.

Guess this was the last straw; I just flung my phone into the foot well of the vehicle in a show of childish frustration. Instead of bouncing on the floor covering as it has done in the past, the phone decides it has had enough and decided to explode into seemingly hundreds of pieces.

What an end to a perfect day.

The Plans of Mice and Men

So much for my last post saying that I was going to pay more attention to this blog, no sooner were the words out of my mouth and my computer died. Not a problem when at home but out here life is more difficult.

That’s not to say there are no computer stores here, there are many. But their stock sort of depends on what was in the last container more than any reasoned approach of a shop selling a good range of machines. And try ordering anything from the www whilst in Nigeria……Forget it.

So, I basically just got an old work machine, loaded up only what I really needed and decided to wait until I went to Dubai to get a decent laptop. In the meantime, the old machine that I am using is so slow, that coupled with the office’s even slower Internet connection, any chance of attending to the blog during the day was effectively lost. The thought of taking the desktop home each evening was out of the question as I have got to the stage that I feel like destroying the bloody thing way before lunch. If I saw it in the evening and happened to have a few pints of the foaming ale, I’m sure I would junk it.

However, it seems that the delayed trip is finally going to take place this coming Wednesday.

I fly from Lagos to Addis Ababa Ethiopia at 12:30 local time and have an hour or so wait for the flight to Dubai (assuming everything is running on time). That aircraft will get me into Dubai at the wonderful time of 0315 local time.

Then I have a couple of days shopping to gather up all the bits and bobs I shall need to do my equipment installations in….wait for it….Mogadishu.

As far as I can make out from the limited amount of trawling of the Internet that is possible with our office connection, it would seem that the city of Mogadishu is virtually a war zone. It sure doesn’t seem like any place a tourist might go to.

It seems like the Ethiopian army, who are propping up the Somali leadership, have seriously upset the local boys who want them all out of the country. These local guys spend their time lobbing grenades at anything to do with the Government or the military. And to make matters worse, who do you think I am doing the job for……yes, the bloody Government!

Apparently, the price of grenades in the local souk has risen from $1 to around $40 as they are so popular.

Anyway, whilst in Dubai I shall have a chance to see if their Duty Free status makes the prices of the things I want for myself seem attractive.

I need a Laptop and also want to get a decent cell phone and a small digital camera that I can hopefully get some good shots of Mogadishu. My old Sony Cybershot, whilst being the latest and greatest when I first purchased it, has been passed by with the advances in technology.

I just hope I don’t go mad and finish up getting a digital SLR and a ton of lenses. (which is what I would really like) I have to consider that where I am these days the locals take a dim view of anyone photographing them (because the sods are probably doing something illegal) or the Government is paranoid of anyone getting a picture of any Government installation.SO dangling a camera around ones neck akin to a Japanese tourist is not an option.

And I guess if I was the Government I would be seriously embarrassed at the state of most of the Government buildings around these parts too.

Well another 24 hrs and I shall be off to Ethiopia. I am actually hoping my plane is late and I miss the connection because I would like the chance to have a try at the local food. The time between my flights doesn’t seem long enough to have the chance of going for a great nosh.