Who moved my Cheese?

Now that all the great and good bloggers, journalists, reporters and general pundits have wrung every last drop of spin from Dubai's little local difficulty, the time is right for a considered and serious evaluation from the intellectual wasteland that is the Paranormal Hotel. Anyone who saw it coming must have realised they couldn't do anything about it except talk, so no change there. Anyone who didn't see it coming probably isn't mentally equipped to decide to do anything different anyway, so again, no change there. All of which boils down to business as usual - doing things that don't need to be done for people who don't know if a thing is well or badly done, with the possible exception of the steaks on their dinner plates.

The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy.

But spare a thought for the Paranormal's girls, arguably the most innocent parties of all in the Great National Hiccup. The poor mice are left wandering around a half empty Jockey's Pub wondering, who moved my cheese? Oh well, there's always Sky Sports...

Crab Sexing by the Sea

There are a few things to do in Doha after all, some of them quite diverting, even for those of us with a built-in allergy to five star hotels and shopping malls. The Museum of Islamic Art is very well worth a visit, for the splendid modern architecture almost as much as for the exhibits. Of course, once or twice a year is probably as often as anyone visits the same museum, which leaves a few more weekends to fill. The next best thing is a walk on the Corniche, which comes in two flavours: out, towards Sheraton, or in, towards the Souqs. Of the two, out is prettier in a viewish way, while in is livelier, especially if you like fish. These can be bought straight from the boats and carried home in a taxi if you can find a driver with no sense of smell.
The way to buy live crabs from a bucket (who said Doha was dull?) is to throw caution to the winds and pick them up, one by one, turning them over and rejecting the males. If you don't know how to spot the difference, just watch any of the Filipinas buying and you'll soon catch on. Crab-sexers par excellence, it seems there's nothing these people aren't good at!

Things to do in Doha

next?

Urinal Etiquette for Dummies

Maybe it's a cultural thing, but basic urinal etiquette, as generally understood in Western Europe and (parts of) USA, appears still to be a mystery in Qatar, at least in some quarters. In the spirit of public service and to give something back to the community, here is Paraglider's Code of Urinal Etiquette. Like all good Codes, it is in two parts. Part 1, The Axiom, sets out the single Inviolable Principle on which the Code is based, while Part 2, The Guidelines, sets out specific dos and don'ts. Are you standing comfortably? Then I'll begin...

Part 1, The Axiom
Urination, even performed in a public urinal, remains a private solo act requiring no intervention, assistance or commentary from any second party.

Part 2, The Guidelines

1. Do not select a vacant urinal adjacent to an occupied one, unless no other stall is available.
2. Do not engage your 'neighbour' in conversation, even if he is a friend or colleague. Nothing is so important it can't wait sixty seconds.
3. On no account look left or right. Either look straight ahead or at the ceiling. Looking down can be misread as an invitation for neighbours to follow your eyes.
4. Do not break the ice by saying 'This is where the big knobs hang out'. Never, OK?
5. If the installation comprises three urinals and you are alone, do not select the middle one, as this could be misconstrued as a desire for company. 
6. If all stalls are occupied, wait at a discreet distance. There is no need to thank the first finisher.

Copies of this Code may be freely distributed. They should be printed on waterproof card and pinned to toilet walls of your choice, until that great day comes when it is no longer necessary.

Dangerous things, sofas

So, the truck laden with sofas ploughs straight into the 4x4 that tried to turn left across his bow. Unusually, there was no screech of locked tyres and no blaring horn to herald the event. Maybe because the trucks brakes and horn didn't work, or maybe the 4x4 just assumed he'd get away with it. The first I heard from my first floor apartment was the dull thump of the collision. It solved the immediate problem I was working on - what to write on the blog. Now, be honest, in that picture of Doha road chaos, did you spot the bicycle? Check again. Is that little black silhouette not a perfect comment on the madness of our modern transport 'system'?
Oh well. Nobody was hurt and the 4x4 was able to drive away from the scene, albeit in need of bodywork and new lights. As for the truck, it wouldn't restart and had to be pushed to the relative safety of the lane behind Taxi Hotel, to the delight of the guy in the white hat. I wonder if his photo is better than mine? All good fun.

Paraglider - Grandfather!!

Paraglider is proud to announce the arrival last night of his grandchild no 2 and grandson no 1, to his wonderful daughter and son-in-law, in Worcester Royal Infirmary. Mother and Baby (all 8lb 11oz of him, that's 4 kilos) doing well.

Yas Island Rotana - 'Right', said Fred

 

Whoever designed the Pool Bar in Yas Island Rotana (Abu Dhabi) must have lived in Bedrock in a past life, with Fred, Barney, Wilma and Betty. It is inconceivable that the similarity to the Flintstones' bar is accidental. And, whoever you are, well done, mate! To find a touch of humour in a five star hotel is rare indeed. I bet you thought no-one would find you out. But don't worry. Your secret is safe with me, and the 100-or-so passing strangers who frequent this virtual Hotel. Repeat after me - five stars good; two stars better - oh wait, that's verging on the Orwellian. Now, there's an adjective tae gang to the kirk wi', as my mother never said.

Le Mont St Michel rebuilt in the Heart of Doha

The Heart of Doha project is now well underway. An area of a few square miles centered on the Royal Palace is being razed to the ground in a veritable orgy of demolition. But is it Art? This magnificent recreation of Normandy's le Mont St Michel is at least as close to the original as our much vaunted mock Venice in Villagio Mall. But visit soon. As a piece of sculpture it promises to be as permanent as Crazy Lemming's unmade bed.
Tonight, England plays Brazil at foopball (official Nigel Molesworth spelling) in Khalifa Stadium. I'll not be going.