Dubai airport and Manchester arrival

I had never been through Dubai before and got my daily ration of exercise wandering around following signs to the appropriate departure gate! I passed the usual collection of airport glittery, sparkly shops selling glittery, sparkly things and then more of them. On and on they went. There were indoor ponds and indoor palm trees, people of all races, in all manor of garb. John would not have been out of place in his caftan ( except his was bright and all the ones I saw were white). It was 5.30 am local time. I found a table and chair in an out of the way place looking over part of the airport with a row of tall buildings in the distance. The sun was rising, trying to emerge through a smoggy gloom. I spent €4.50 on a coffee – the most I have ever spent- and it wasnot very nice. Serve me right. The paper towel dispenser in the loo automatically dispensed 1 sheet if you waved your hand under it, but 1 sheet was not enough if you were dripping.

On the flight from Dubai to Manchester I saw a full page ad in a newspaper for a particular brand of microwave. The words said “Enjoy the spirit of Ramadan with .. .. brand. I suppose if you have less time to cook a microwave is helpful. On both the Emirate flights I flew on the overhead lugger storage locker was called a ‘hatrack’. Quaint.

I caught the train from Manchester airport into the city. I sat in a chair and put my pack on the chair facing me. A blind(ish) lady got on the train at the stop after the airport. She looked in my direction and asked if the chair next to the pack was free. I said ‘yes, but my pack is there. It does not bite, though.’ As I said it I thought ‘Woops, this is England, you do not talk, and certainly not in a joking way, to strangers on a train.” She was in her mid 40’s and did not follow this rule. We chattered about this and that, I told her that I was going to Manchester for a wedding and then a few other places before Italy. She was going to a meeting in Liverpool for work. It came up that I had been in London last year. Just before we got to my stop, somehow her blindness came up in the conversation and I said that my mother used to Braille Maths text books. Quick as a flash she replied “ Ah, but I am talking to you – an interesting , adventurous lady” . Hmmm.

I walked to the place where I was supposed to collect my key. It was an office place – sold envelopes, arranged parcel collection and sending, had a few computers, photocopiers etc,. The man did not have my keys. He rang both numbers I had of the owners of the apartments who I had been emailing and left 2 messages. It really was not his problem at all. He was very helpful. I left my pack with him and went to the sandwich place nearby he recommended and by the time I got back he had got onto the owners and had my keys.

After a shower I walked around and did a few jobs – collected pre-bought train tickets for onward journeys, bought an English Sim card , some breakfast provisions etc. The evening was most enjoyable, except I was very tired, meeting some family members of the father of the bride and other rellies.