Trying a new thing

So what with the house move and travelling and writing the book (more on that later) I find myself short of time to keep up my diary. I have been writing it since I was fourteen, and I am not about to pack it in now, but for the time being I am looking for a quicker outlet. So I came up with keeping a visual diary, a quick drawing of events every day. It also keeps me in sketching mode, something I have neglected criminally in the last few years, and allows me to practice drawing. I focus on three major events of the day (not as easy as it sounds, I've had a lot going on lately) and try to visualise them. My naturalistic drawing of objects has always been quite terrible, ditto faces and bodies, but I am not letting that stop me. Here are more samples. The sketchbook gives me background colours, but I have decided to move on to a daily calendar type book from January 1st.

What I'll Miss - Germany

It's been almost two years (and too few entries on this blog, alas), so it's about time we moved on from Germany. Packing up our stuff has become a well-rehearsed affair, the only novelty lies in the items we sell off this time and whether everything goes into storage or gets shipped immediately to the new destination.


This is my third attempt at living in Germany, maybe my last. What will I miss when I leave?

• The bread, dark and heavy with grains, sold by the local baker women who are almost friendly after all this time of me shopping there every day.
• The eco-greengrocer round the corner and the fresh produce, including the wide variety of cabbage, root vegetables and apples. Despite being open at seemingly random hours and only taking cash, I always look forward to checking out the season's fruit and veg.
• The Folkwangmuseum. Once dubbed 'The Most Beautiful Museum in the World', it is glamorous, airy, and full of amazing Expressionist art. Shame about the cafe that can only be visited after paying the entrance fee. 
• Popping in to my mum's on a whim, for a cup of tea and a long chat. Anytime.
• Trains that run on time. Really, they are! And cheap, clean and stylish to boot. How romantic to know that I can get to Berlin, Moscow, Vienna, without even changing, directly from Essen Hauptbahnhof. Not to forget the iPhone app that let's me look up timetables, the BahnCard that gives me money off the ticket, and the promptly answered phone line with accurate information. Take that, British Rail!
• Our glorious flat, the big windows with the hot summer view over the forest, the long desk in the office, the projector and screen for watching movies on the squishy sofa. 

Geography of a house move

View Larger Map

Until I looked at the output of the car GPS I hadn't realised how much driving I did to sort out the various bits of our exit from New Zealand. It puts me in a melancholy mood to remember my last lunches with friends, the views across the bay from the waterfront. I am equally glad that the endless disposal of superfluous bits and pieces is over. My favourite trip was the last one, to drop the car off at Van Lines for shipping. If you click on the "View Larger Map" link you can investigate the whole map on Google. Enjoy!

The strangest coincidence

My last days in Wellington, now that we have well and truly moved out (the inspection went off without a hitch today), are spent at Combie and Sarah's house in Mt. Victoria. By a strange coincidence I have a bedroom with a view of Oriental Bay and the Rimutakas, exactly in the opposite direction from the view we had when we first moved to Wellington. In fact I can see Carl and Elisabeth's place, where we spent those first few cold and windy weeks, in the distance perched on the hill. Weird, a reversal of direction, then arriving and now leaving, looking forwards and back... You get the drift.

Goodbye Wellington! It was nice knowing you.

The prize for most unbureaucratic process goes to...

The AA for de-registering my car for free and without asking for any paperwork bar my driving license number. Plus the guy who did it was from Cape Town, so we could have a nice chat about South Africa while I filled out the - very simple - form. As opposed to Vodaphone's shenanigans.

Musing on Moving

Why is it that the one time my place is in tip top shape is the day before the movers come? Yesterday this house was streamlined. I knew where everything was, what possessions I own and that all of them are things I actually value. It was beautiful. Of course, today everything is packed into pristine white boxes, inaccessible for the next 6 months.

Vodaphone rant

With every house move there has to be a rant, because the least fun job when leaving a country is the cancellation of bills and accounts. Water rates, rent, car insurance, tax, landline phone, internet, mobiles... I could go on. Cancelling involves navigating through imprenetable websites, waiting for hours on the phone to atrocious hold music, sending letters and visiting dingy offices.

The prize for most ridiculous excuse for refusing to cancel a contract so far goes to Vodafone New Zealand. Vodafone has a track record for flakiness, cancelling international roaming just as I leave for Australia or changing contract details without notification, inevitably resulting in endless calls to the outsourced call centre. From the beginning, despite signing a contract in person in the shop, my bills said "Mr.". Knowing the haphazard results from calls, I never bothered changing it. When I called to cancel my account today I was informed that I could not do this because I was not male as per the account details. The fact that I know the date of birth, password and any other details was to no avail. Even the supervisor was adamant that they would see my passport in person to verify my gender. The back and forth went on for so long that I was starting to doubt my identity at the end.

Oh well. I guess I will be trying to find a male who can make the call for me. It's almost like being back in the Middle East...

...in which the cat is an Internet star

One of the more horrible aspects of our house move is the question of what to do with the cat. She won't like travelling on the very long trip to Germany (hell, I hate it and I get a seat and peanuts and lots of movies as opposed to a box in an unheated cargo hold). We won't be there at the other end to pick her up (although Mark and Martina kindly volunteered to look after her for the time we are in South Africa) and with our frequent absences we wouldn't be able to provide a good home to her in Germany anyway.

So the hard decision was to find her a new home in Wellington. I had been putting it off again and again, until finally I really needed to get on and find a place. But where do you publicise the fact that your cat needs a new home? Facebook? Lots of kind messages but no offers. The local SPCA? This garnered a few terse references to websites and the underlying message: "Just don't bring her back to us, we have 90 kittens to dispose of first." Ask friends and friends of friends and friends of friends of friends? Everyone who likes cats already has one. Someone mentioned TradeMe (for you non-Kiwis, that's the local version of eBay). But that's where you sell stuff, right? Apparently not, as the listings were full of cuddly dogs, glamorous cats and a few budgies. My expectations of success were low as there were so many other pets listed, but I gathered all the cutest photos of the cat together and Merryl wrote the most amazing copy and, to coin a phrase: A star was born!

Within half an hour we had a phone call and text message (it was 10 at night) with people interested in seeing the cat, and the next three days until we took the ad down we had 10 requests. the story changed from being desperate to finding someone to take her to sifting applicants. So I asked everyone interested to visit here and meet the cat and then I planned to go to their house and see if it was suitable. I had a mental questionnaire from: "Do you have a cat flap?" and "How much time do you spend sitting on the sofa?" (the cat loves to perch on laps) to "Are you planning to move house anytime soon?" Not really, but people did volunteer the most amazing amount of personal information. I had a long email from a guy in Petone who specified his income and career prospects in great detail to let me know he was capable of looking after a pet long-term. The whole thing turned into an adoption process.

The happy ending to this is that Ariadne now lives with a nice Texan couple in Kelburn whose 6 year old daughter has been collecting cat points to earn the right to a pet on her birthday. She is already planning to build a cat fort and has a large selection of cat toys and plastic bags (the cat likes the crumpling sounds of carrier bags - I know, not normal), so I think Ariadne is not going to be bored. Her name might change to a more 6 year old friendly version - that's ok, we mostly called her fluffybums and kitty, anyway.

The TradeMe page is already gone, but for those of you interested in seeing Merryl's fabulous copy, read on:

"Feline Greetings (purrr, head bump) My name, my formal name is Ariadne, but my friends (YOU) can call me 'kitty', 'cat', 'puss' or 'fluffypants'. I like them all. My parents are moving to South Africa at the end of January and I hear the lions and cheetahs are very jealous of my beautifully rare patterns and overall cuteness. Since I am so polite and well-mannered, I would prefer to avoid THAT particular cat-fight and just relax in NZ. I am the type of cat that loves to join you in the gorgeous sun or the garden; running away from spiders and pawing at the slaters. When I'm indoors, I like to hunt down the noisiest plastic bag in the household, roll around in it and nap in it too. I enjoy the relaxed household, not too much chaos, but not so I'm alone all the time - I like it when you guys are home :) then I can talk to you and have some bonding time. I think the little sproggs will be ok for me, but they have to promise to be nice to me and not chase me lots, running is tiring you know? And I don't think I'm that keen on doggies, they are so loud and obnoxious. And like I said earlier, most cats are jealous of my beauty, so how about I just be the only kitty cat in the household? :) more pats for me that way. Please call me when you are going to watch tv or a film, I'll come running, sit right on you and watch it with you - just dont wriggle to much please, WHY do humans wriggle so much? O, and do let me know where the sunny spots in the house are please, I cant get enough of the sunny spots! They make me so happy. I must admit, I am a youthful and lively 4yr old, but EVERYONE says I look ATLEAST half my age. oh so nice, well...I do dont I? My parents say I tend to put on a 'winter coat' during the chillier season - so I enjoy my dining and napping! What's so wrong with that? Come and visit me any time you like, we can talk about our common interests and hobbies. I would love to meet you! kitty kisses xx "

The End

The day has finally come when we leave Dubai.

Moving to New Zealand is turning out to be a drawn-out process. We moved out of the flat in Capricorn Tower three weeks ago, with the help of Crowne - again, and after a serious clear-out. It will take two months for our belongings to arrive in Wellington after a journey by container ship via Singapore, so we decided to pack up early. I hated leaving our amazing flat and still miss the view down Sheik Zayed Rd every day. We spent our remaining time - until Stuart finished working at DIFX - living at Donna's house in Jumeirah, which also helped enormously with the editing of the documentary. Donna looked after us magnificiently, and we have never eaten so well.

The hardest part was saying goodbye to the friends we've made. Even after the leaving-do Claire and Carla arranged for us on the Dhow at Mina Seyahi we still had a host of lunches and dinners organised. It was so good to see everyone again for one more time, and I realised how many fabulous people we got to know during our time here, a whole Dubai family.

This is the last entry in this particular blog. My intention in writing it was to show what our life was like here in Dubai, to dispel some of the myths about expat life in the Middle East and to keep in touch with our friends in Europe (and elsewhere). Still, if you are interested in our adventures Down Under, Stuart is taking over and has already started his blog. Much more technologically advanced, it features an RSS feed so that you can make use of your news reader to keep up to date with us. Go there now!

Goodbye!

Housing Options

We had basically two kinds of options to choose from when we were looking for somewhere to live in Dubai.
There are flats and there are villas. Of course there are lots of different kinds of both. From the small flat sub-divided by the landlord to accommodate as many Indian bachelors as possible to the luxury split-level penthouse suites with maid's room.
We opted for a flat since it was central, with decent services and very secure (villas have the greatest chance of being burgled, this being one of the few crimes one has to worry about here). Now that we have met a few people we have been to some villas. They are either detached houses with own garden and sometimes a small pool, or blocks of 6-12 semi-detached houses, usually quite large, with a shared pool and sometimes gym in the central courtyard. Gardens aren't too popular here, since it is too hot most of the year for anything meaningful to grow. So the gardens are paved with barbecue areas and seating, loungers round the pool and jacuzzi.
There is so much construction going on in Dubai that it is normal to rent after seeing a show home or example flat and then live in a hotel or temporary accommodation until the building is finished. Whole areas of Dubai are being developed like this, with communities of 15 sq. miles of villas in the middle of the desert.

The Meadows development
We have so far only had experience of the way Western ex-pats live, apart from driving through the older parts of town, where much smaller blocks of flats are located with external air-conditioning units and washing hanging on the balcony.