I’ve moved again, finding myself on another mound in “the sandpit” an expression often heard amongst the expats of Dubai. I shouldn’t knock this place but I have to as it shows (a) Dubai is not the best in the world at everything, and (b) I’m more of a freak than even I thought. Here’s the nightmare I had getting to class from my old ‘hood..
In keeping with my “Go Green” policy (catching public transport wherever possible), I left home at 2pm walking a half hour to the nearest bus stop on route to the 4pm class. I waited in the air conditioned fish tank come bus stop, swapping stories with migrant workers as the bus service, again played the joker of Dubai. After 1.5 hours an exodus began and I was offered to share a taxi but I stayed in principle, finally climbing aboard a bus and arriving at Club Stretch some 30 mins late for the 4pm class. Serenity now!
You think I could have let it go during Kevin’s blissfully exhausting 6pm class, but no! I declined a lift home and after comforting myself with a large plate of rice noodles, I decided to walk to see if I could beat the bus. I nonchalantly set off on my adventure, dodging speeding traffic where no sidewalks existed, crossing through 8 unavoidable construction sites and inhaling more dirt than a week of Kapalbhati breathing would ever expel. I finally walked through the door some 2hrs later at 11:30pm… But I did beat the bus and proudly walked the beat again to yoga the next day!
Matt’s Hot Travel Tip #2:
When it looks a long way on the map, it probably is. When you can sense trouble ahead, you’re probably right. When you’re knee deep in pig headed, principle pie one day, don’t be silly enough to order a slice the next because no amount of radox salts in the bath will soothe your aching body or silly ego!