Mad season

June 20, 2009 § 4 Comments

For a desert, it wasn’t as hot as I had thought. The temperature outside had been a sizzling 35 degrees but the eternally air-conditioned Abu Dhabi buildings felt like ice. It was to be my final stop before returning home. Home, that word just feels good.

My trusty friend H had already booked a table at Oceans, one of many hip and glitzy nightclubs in the Emirates, where the beautiful see and are seen. Despite my protests that I was to board a 12-hour flight early next morning, somehow I was told sternly that I wasn’t the pilot and therefore getting wasted the night before was apparently a rule, not an exception. As I walked into the chilly atmosphere of the club, I tried to hide my badly torn jeans and slippered feet from the shiny pretty dresses all the other girls were wearing.

It was ladies night, and ladies night in the Emirates means free cocktails all night long. On top of that, another friend M had brought along his gang of Italian mafia buddies who bought us girls countless shots of a luminous blue drink. The name of it was unknown to me but the taste and effect became known a little too quickly for my liking. The long island tea I was sipping was extremely long, so by the end of it without sense or judgement all that bright liquid found its way down my throat.

By early morning we retired, and after another cold night, I dragged myself to the airport. My head was heavy and I remember being relieved at snagging the best cab driver in the world. In my opinion that means a cab driver who only speaks when asking for the destination and fare. Beyond that I really try to avoid any kind of verbal contact with cabbies. Call me stuck-up, but I have absolutely nothing to contribute to a conversation involving cricket and Pakistan. He did have a weird phone ring tone which sounded like a crazed bird call, plus he didn’t smell as bad.

The flight home was rather uneventful. I scored for once and sat next to a cute, blond, tall, blue-eyed Aussie boy from Coogee, though I doubt he would have appreciated talking to a hung-over grump. I didn’t even try and distracted myself by watching movie after movie. After what seemed like the longest flight I’ve ever been on, the plane landed, finally. I’ve never been so happy to hear Kyle and Jackie O.

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