DAY ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN - The Qasr al Hosn Festival

In one of my early blogs I lamented that I hadn't been able to find many historical or cultural sites in Abu Dhabi. I came here really wanting to learn about the country and the culture, but I found that goal daunting. There is new construction everywhere you look in the city, but where is the history? Where are the roots, I wondered. Turns out it is right at my doorstep. Literally.

Two weeks after we arrived in Abu Dhabi we moved into Sama Tower, one of the tallest residential towers in the city. The NYUAD students, faculty and staff live here, and the Health and Wellness Center is here along with the dining hall and several floors of administrative offices. Sama is located on a major intersection, and although we are only halfway up the tower, the views from our 26th floor windows are expansive. The low-rise residential section of Al Bateen is off to the South, and to the North we catch glimpses of the new high rises lining the Corniche. Straight ahead to the West we can see more towers and the white domes of the new Presidential Palace. When the sun sets the waters of the Arabian Gulf are on fire. But directly below us is this large, ugly, city block of mostly nothing - lots of dirt, a couple dozen dusty palm trees, a patch of grass, a few structures, and in the corner something that looks like a fort. 

The entire block is ringed with a 20-ft. tall barrier, so at street level you can see nothing. I pulled out my city map and learned the largest building was the Cultural Center, which perked me right up. That's exactly what I was looking for, right? But as I surveyed the site it was obvious that nothing was happening there. The lot was deserted. I felt a bit depressed because it seemed to me that this place had potential, that it must mean something. 

Then during the Holidays things changed. One day I looked out my window and saw a veritable army of workers. From morning till night trucks rolled in and Bobcats - lots of them - were busy clearing out areas. "What in the world?" I wondered.

People of a certain age will remember the short-lived children's show, Fraggle Rock, which aired in the 80's. The Rock was populated, in part, by the Doozers, tiny little creatures who were constantly building. We never knew exactly what they were building..... but they were always hard at work with their machines, scaffolding and tools.

Jeff was visiting with us when this all began, and we jokingly began referring to all the workers and machines as Doozers, since that is what they looked like from the distance. 

Big signs appeared on the walls surrounding the area announcing the Qasr al Hosn Festival which would run February 21st - March 1st. The Doozers cleared a large area in one corner of the lot, and then in the space of two days they erected an enormous tent. In the opposite corner a large parking lot was carved out and paved over. Next I watched as a small pond was dug and filled adjacent to the tent. Now my curiousity was really piqued. "Hmmmm", I thought, "whatever this is, it's a pretty big deal".

Early this month the advertising began in earnest for the Festival. Articles appeared in Time Out Abu Dhabi and Abu Dhabi Week. The Festival had a website up and running with all the details. What I read made me smile:

Tucked away under the capital's familiar high rises and surrounded by the bustling sounds of the streets filled with traffic there stands a piece of history. The oldest structure in Abu Dhabi, the Qasr al Hosn fort, has become the symbolic birthplace of the city. 

I mean how ironic. Here I was wondering where is the history, where are the historical sites, and THE most significant historical site was literally beneath my window! 

I read that the festival's purpose is to honor this structure and celebrate the history and culture of the Emirati people with exhibitions, demonstrations, guided tours of the fort (under renovation), lectures, and a special stage show called Cavalia. There was no way in the world that I was going to miss this!

I bought tickets for Cavalia which included admission to the entire Festival, and last night Doug and I walked across the street and through the gates. Magic!

The Festival site had cleverly been divided up into several themed areas: Desert, Oasis, Abu Dhabi Island, Marine, Qasr Al Hosn fort, Qasr Al Hosn Exhibition, Cultural Foundation, and the Cavalia Show (tent). At the entrance and scattered throughout the site were information kiosks. We stopped by one and picked up several booklets. The person we spoke with was very enthusiastic about the Festival and showed us a schedule of workshops that we could attend. They included Storytelling, Burga Making, Kendura Dying, Palm Weaving, Gahwa (Coffee Making), Henna, Traditional Cooking, Fishnet Making, and more. There were workshops specially designed for children, and there was also a lecture series every evening and poetry performances. 

What would a festival be without food? There was lots of traditional food to be had, and I loved the seating areas that were set up with the low tables and cushions on the sand. Note the palm frond fences. The most common trees are mango (by the Arabian Sea) and date palms, so this is the building material that was traditionally used for building. The fort is in the background.

Doug and I strolled the Festival grounds. It was so thoughtfully laid out and designed from the very fine sand that had been trucked in to cover the entire site, to the lighting, to the wave machine in the middle of the lake that sent gentle waves rippling to the shore. Speakers tucked into the tops of palm trees provided bird sounds in the oasis, and over at the marine area we heard the sound of the sea and sea gulls. 

Each of the themed areas (oasis, desert, Abu Dhabi Island & Marine) had its own souk filled with goods such as clothing, coffee, honey, jewelry, and decorated wooden boxes such a the ones in this photo. And everywhere was the scent of incense. 

A Bedouin tent.

Throughout the Festival grounds these very helpful signs were to be found written in both English and Arabic.

These men are demonstrating how to shuck oysters. Pearl diving was an important industry along the Arabian Gulf until the Japanese discovered how to culture pearls. 

Oysters.

Dhows are the traditional sailing vessel of this region. 

A craftsman building a boat in the traditional manner.

Alongside the man-made lake Doug and I paused to watch craftsmen constructing a boat. A young Emirati man standing nearby offered that the men were building the boat in the traditional way using only hand tools. I asked some questions about the boat which he answered, and then he told me that he was from the desert but that when he arrived, "somehow they ended up putting me here". He shrugged his shoulders and then laughed saying, "but hey, I've learned a lot from these guys". I loved that he came to the Festival as a volunteer expecting to teach others about his desert life but instead ending up learning about a part of his culture that was new to him. He and I both agreed that sometimes "mistakes" turn out for the better. 

These men are making fishing nets. The fish most commonly caught in the Arabian Gulf is hamour, a kind of grouper. If there is seafood on a menu, it will always include hamour. 

The tent for the show, Cavalia at Qasr al Hosn, is enormous at 10 stories tall at the 4 peaks.

Doug and I wandered the festival for an hour and a half before heading to the tent for Cavalia. The show was created by Normand Latourelle, one of the co-founders of Cirque du Soleil, and featured over 40 trained horses, 36 riders, aerialists, acrobats and musicians. The show's set, costumes and music were tailored to reflect Emirati culture. The horses were already a perfect fit. I grew up next door to a family that bred and showed Arabian horses, and I went to many horse shows with them. As a teenager I saved up my babysitting money and bought my own horse, Pasha, who was half Arabian and half quarter horse. I read every horse book I could get my hands on, especially the ones about Arabians. So going into Cavalia, I knew the high regard Arabs hold for horses. 

The show was a very fast-paced, and in typical Cirque du Soleil style, one act flowed into the next without a pause. The focus was on the horses. One of the most mesmerizing acts was when a trainer came out with 8 magnicent Arabian horses that galloped round him, switching direction, then pausing to cluster near him before tearing off again. These were not your typical circus horses that trot docilly in a circle with a feather plume on their forehead. No, these horses were full of fire, tossing their heads and nipping at each other, ears bared back at times, and kicking up their heels. I knew these horses were amazingly well-trained, but at the very same time they were wild, vibrant creatures. Doug is not a horse person, but he came away from the show just raving about it.

I pulled this photo from the Cavalia website because of course no photography was allowed..... even though everyone seemed to ignore that request. At the end of the show the performance area was filled partway with water, and horses and riders galloped through it madly, soaking the front row of the audience. This photo gives you a sense of the abandon of the horses in the show. 

After the show Doug and I walked over to the fort for a tour. Because of the sensitivity of the site, they were not allowing people to walk through on their own. Instead they took groups of 12-15 through with a guide. This was the highlight of our evening because, after all, the Festival was in honor of this structure and its history.

This is one of my favorite photos of Abu Dhabi. Note the date in the upper-left corner: 1955. All there was to the island at that time was the fort, some small coral buildings close to shore, palm huts and a few scattered palm trees. The city I see out my window was constructed in its entirety during my lifetime.

We had a lovely, young Emirati woman as our guide. She explained that centuries ago Bedouins from the Bani Yas tribe of the Liwa Oasis would come in from the desert to fish, but they could not live there permanently for lack of fresh water. That changed in the mid 1700's when fresh water was discovered on the island of Abu Dhabi, and a small settlement was established. in the 1760's Sheikh Dhiyab Bin Isa of the Bani Yas tribe constructed a watch tower out of coral and sea stone for the purpose of controlling access to the island and protection. As the community grew, walls were added to the tower to make a fort. Further enlargements were made over the subsequent centuries, and finally in the 1900's, after the discovery of oil in the Gulf, a palace was constructed within the walls. The royal family ultimately moved elsewhere to a larger, more modern residence, and the fort was used for a time to house important documents and collections about the UAE and Gulf region.

A drawing of the original watch tower. There was no door at ground level or stairs, but both were added later and remain today.

Now the fort is empty and not being used. Instead archeologist and preservationists are studying the structure so that hopefully it will remain standing for centuries to come. Our guide told us that they are hoping the UN will designate it a World Heritage Site. 

In the 1980's a white gypsum and cement render was applied over the original coral and sea rock tower and walls for aesthetic purposes and to make the fort stronger. Unfortunately it was later found to be trapping moisture, causing the structure to degrade. Now preservationists are carefully chiseling away the render.

One tidbit of information I found especially interesting had to do with a small building that sits adjacent to the fort. I learned it was built by Sheikh Zayed Bin Sultan Al Nahayn solely for the purpose of holding discussions to unite the six Emirates into one nation. 

Honestly, even as I write this I shake my head thinking back to October when I moved to Abu Dhabi, looked out my window and wondered where are the historical sites? Where can I look to find the history of this place? 

And now I know. 

DAY ONE HUNDRED NINE - Dust "Storm"

In Hoboken I feel very removed from the outdoors in my 10th floor apartment. The windows require almost super-human strength to open, so I leave them shut most of the time. I don't have a deck or porch, so I can't easily step outside. As a result if I want to know what the weather is like, I check the temperature on-line. Then I look across the street to an apartment balcony that has Christmas garland hanging from it year-round to determine wind direction and speed. If I suspect it might be raining, I peer down to the street below to see if the cars have their windshield wipers going or if people are walking with umbrellas. 

In Abu Dhabi there really isn't "weather" to speak of - it doesn't change dramatically from one day to the next. Most days it is sunny although sometimes there are a few clouds in the sky. The temperatures change gradually from furnace-hot in the Summer to absolutely perfect in the Winter and then back again. It's as humid as a rain forest in the Summer, pleasantly dry in the Winter, and every now and then we'll get a little bit of rain. I don't know about the interior, but here on the coast there is almost always a nice breeze that blows in from the Arabian Gulf. There really is no need to "check the weather" in the morning before heading out. 

This morning I woke to the sound of the wind. The windows in the bedroom are not completely air tight, so the wind blew through the cracks loudly, moaning and howling. As I lay there still mostly asleep I believed myself to be in Hoboken, listening to the Winter winds blast up the wind tunnel that is River Street. But as I came awake I was aware of the bright blue sky outside my window and felt momentary confusion. I expected the muted grey light of a snow storm. 

I don't have a neighboring balcony with a "wind sock" to check the wind speed and direction, but I do have something just as good. In the distance on a breakwater is an enormous flag. If I see it flapping straight out, I know it is very windy outside. Most of the time, the flag points inward to the city because the winds are blowing in off the water. This morning when I looked out the wind was blowing in from the interior, from the desert. I remembered the dust storm of two weeks ago and wondered....

This is the flag I see from my window. The tallest building on the skyline, the square building to the left of the flag, is Sama Tower where I live. This photo must be a few years old because there are now a few buildings which are taller. Buildings go up like mushrooms in Abu Dhabi.

Several hours have passed since I first awoke, and sure enough, the dust has blown in. My visibility has been cut down considerably even in the past hour. If I didn't know it was dust, I might think it fog except for the faint reddish-orange tinge in the air. 

I've heard the term "dust storm" before and seen photos of enormous, frightening clouds of dust roiling into Phoenix, AZ, or Sidney, Australia. This is not what I am experiencing. The wind is strong, but the dust didn't come in abruptly like an angry wave or storm front. It is blowing in gradually, more like smoke from a distant wildfire. 

The last time this happened, the dust remained in the air for a good 3-4 days. People grumbled about it getting their cars dirty, but that seemed the only inconvenience. I will be curious to see how long this "event" lasts. 

DAY ONE HUNDRED FIVE - Mixed Emotions

My morning ritual is to mix up plain Greek yogurt with granola and a small dab of jam and then sit at my desk in front of my iPad. I read all my email, most of which arrive while I sleep because of the time zone difference, then I scan the Facebook posts, and finally I check my favorite news websites. I need these connections like I need water and oxygen. 

This Thursday I am sitting in utter gloom. It's as dark during the daytime as it's ever been. The morning's dark clouds quickly gave way to full overcast and then a steady, drenching rain. When I looked out the window about 30 minutes ago I spotted plumes of jet-black smoke pouring from the top of a building a few blocks away along the Corniche. I don't know this city well enough to know which building it might be, but it's not one of the very newest high-rises. Then I heard sirens which is very unusual here, unlike Hoboken. I must say for a city VERY much larger than Hoboken, I hear a mere fraction of the sirens. I've always contended that the Hoboken police use their sirens way too much, and after living here for a few months, that opinion has only been reinforced. In addition to the sirens, an official-looking helicopter is making an appearance and buzzing around for a look-see. We don't typically see or hear many of them in Abu Dhabi either. 

I woke wanting to check on news of the Winter Storm pummeling the East Coast with snow and ice. I look at Silver Spring, Maryland, where my sister and her family live and guess that it will be another snow day for her two children. Linz and Sasha will be happy. My dad is only minutes away from Lori in a retirement community, and not for the first time this Winter I feel relief knowing he is in a safe place with lots of people around him for company. I don't have to worry anymore about him living in his isolated house on a hill, miles outside of the nearest town. 

A quick look at the Weatherunderground tells me that it's a mild (mid-50's) kind of week in Denver, and San Diego is enjoying it's usual ideal weather which today is far nicer than what I am experiencing. So no worries about "the kids". 

No, it's my friends in NYC and Hoboken that I think about this morning. Snow and ice pellets. 100% probability. I read that schools announced closings the evening before, and people who can work from home made sure to bring their business laptops home with them. This used to be an unusual occurance, but this Winter apparently it's become routine. I feel like I'm watching the movie "Groundhog Day" as storm after storm blows through, but sadly my friends are living it. Early in the Winter the emails and FB posts were about the beautiful snow, but now I read about my friends' frustration at being cooped up inside, and their justifiable fears about walking outside on the slick sidewalks or driving on treacherous roads. 

I know it's irrational and silly, but I think I am experiencing a little Survivor's Guilt. Today is overcast. So what. It's already starting to clear as I type this. And the coldest daytime temperature to date has been 67 or 68, and I had to break out a wind breaker. Boo hoo. In all honesty I am so happy to be in Abu Dhabi right at this moment. I am so relieved not to be in the middle of the umpteenth Winter storm of the season. But at the same time, I feel a little badly admitting this. I also know none of my friends resent me for these feelings. Like I said - irrational.

I guess that's the thing about wanting and needing to be connected. You share your joys, but you also share all the other "stuff". You're honest with yourself and each other even if it makes you a little uncomfortable. I wouldn't want it any other way, but sometimes it's tough. 

DAY NINETY EIGHT - Rub al Khali, the Empty Quarter

There is more than a bit of irony, I think, in that I find myself living for a year in a desert country, in one of the most arid and hottest regions in the world.

You see, for the past two years at least I've had an itch to visit a desert. I've lived in the green, wooded area of the Northeast most of my life, but I've hiked in the Rocky Mountains and visited the Pacific Northwest. I've ridden an airboat in the Florida Everglades, snorkled off Maui and walked in the ash of Haleakalas's crater. And on one very memorable trip with my friend Linda, we hiked through jungles in Panama along the canal and then flew up to the mountains and trudged through a bone-chilling rain in the cloud forest of Baru, a dormant volcano. But I had never experienced a desert, and I really wanted to. What I had in mind was a desert in California. I figured one year when I flew out to visit Jeff in San Diego, we could make a day trip of it and drive to the Palm Springs area or Joshua Tree National Park. But as they say, be careful what you wish for. I would add, be very specific about what you wish for.

A trip to the desert seemed a natural for one of Jeff's U.A.E. Christmas Adventures. I had been planning on going out there with Doug anyway, so it made sense to wait until Jeff was with us so we could go together. I set about picking up tourist brochures wherever I found them and Googling "desert safaris". What I discovered, and no surprise really, was that there were no end of desert safaris to be found. Every tour company offered them, but the vast majority were half-day trips just out of town, starting in the early evening. They followed this general itinerary:

Pick-up and drop-off by 4x4 car

Visit camel farm

Camel riding

Dune bashing as the sun sets over the desert

Drive to a desert "camp" for a BBQ dinner (or some kind of snack involving dates and Arabic coffee)

Shisha smoking (this is the hubbly-bubbly or water pipe)

Henna tattoo

Belly dancer

I read these descriptions, and they just felt contrived and touristy to me. I'm sure they are fun, and clearly they are popular, but what I had in mind was to really and truly experience the desert. So I did more research and found a few companies that offered a full-day safari to the Liwa Oasis which sits on the edge of the Rub' al Khali, the Empty Quarter. 

The Empty Quarter. Just the name intrigued me, and the more I read, the more I knew this is where we had to go.

The Rub al Khali is the largest expanse of desert in the world, encompassing most of the southern third of the Arabian Peninsula. Most of it lies in Saudi Arabia, but it also extends into the UAE, Oman and Yeman. The sand is a characteristic orangey-red due to the presence of feldspar, and the dunes reach enormous heights, more like large hills than what we normally think of as sand dunes. 

The Moreeb Dune in the Empty Quarter is thought to be the tallest dune in the world at around 300 meters. The translation is "scary dune". 

Early on New Years Eve Day we were picked up at our apartment by our driver, a very out-going and talkative young Indian named Aziz. As our Land Rover headed out of the city he told us that we were first going to rendezvous with two other vehicles at a gas station. He said that for safety reasons, they always went out in groups of at least three vehicles. 

The day was bright and sunny, but it was quite breezy and just a bit cool. We brought jackets with us, sunglasses, sunscreen and bottles of water. As we left Abu Dhabi the landscape was pretty flat, and the sand was mostly beige in color. We passed some areas that looked like they were being cultivated with date palms. 

As we got further out the wind picked up and sand blew across the road, looking for all the world like snow skittering across a frozen roadway in Upstate New York. The air was hazy with dust. Off to one side ran a parallel truck road, and as you can see, it was filled with a continuous line of very large, heavy trucks. They just kept coming and going - I've never seen anything like it. It was very clear that there is some huge construction project or projects being undertaken out in the deserts of the U.A.E. 

And then in the midst of all the construction traffic we saw this, a camel train, just plodding along the road. Surreal. It was twice as long as this photo, so there were quite a few camels.

About an hour outside of Abu Dhabi we came to a traffic light, which completely took me by surprise as we were seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Then I could see what looked like a pyramid behind some scrubby trees and and entrance. Our small parade of Land Rovers turned in, and we found ourselves at the Emirates National Auto Museum. The pyramid is actually a warehouse which stores the private car collection of Sheikh Hamad bin Hamdan Al Nahyan. Apparently visiting this museum was part of the day's tour.

In the front of the museum were parked these two giant...... RV's??? I am not sure what they are really. I think they were gifted to the Sheikh. What do you give the sheikh who has everything? A globe on wheels, I guess.

Here's another view of the "globe". You could walk up and have your photo taken at the top of the stairs, but you could not enter. Don't you wonder what it looks like inside??? 

The cars were displayed very nicely. The "road" wove back and forth throughout the entire warehouse, and most cars were labled which was very helpful. Many cars were originals like the VW Bug, but most were customized in some way.

One of the many, MANY, rainbow Mercedes, and note the gold trim. Some had all the colors of the rainbow like this one, but the Sheik also had solid-color Mercedes, each in a color of the rainbow, one for each day of the week. 

World's biggest Dodge truck, sans engine. You could walk under it and not wack your head. 

I don't think this is an original. I believe it is a replica of the very first Mercedes, but cool nevertheless.

And just for good measure, there was a jet and a giant Jeep parked out back because.... why not?

How's this for scale?

As we wandered through the museum I wondered about all the rainbow-colored cars, of which there were many. They would be ideal, and I do mean ideal, for our Gay Pride Parades - there were enough to make up their own parade -  but considering that homosexuality is illegal in this country, I doubt the rainbow colors and imagry have quite the same connotation as they do in our country. Later when I read up on the museum I discovered that the Sheikh is known as the Rainbow Sheikh. I guess he just likes rainbows a lot, which is cool. 

We drove for another hour. The color of the sand changed from beige to a distinct orange-red, and the dunes grew taller. Finally the lead Rover slowed down, pulled off the road into the open desert and took off. We were last in line and followed. We drove for a few minutes, leaving the highway well behind us, and then at the base of a large dune we all slowed to a complete stop.

All three drivers exited their Land Rovers and proceeded to let air out of all the tires. Apparently this is what one does when driving in the desert because it gives the 4x4's more traction. They also lifted the hoods so the engines could cool down. We passengers took the opportunity to stretch our legs.

I could tell from Jeff's expression that he thought this was pretty awesome.

And then we climbed into our Land Rover and we were off!

Dunes as far as the eye can see.

The contrast between the clear blue sky and the rust-colored sand was striking.

On the flat the Rovers moved along pretty quickly, carving their way across and up dunes.

When we came to a very steep dune, like this one, the strategy was a little different. Note that the dune is at about a 45 degree angle to our Land Rover's window sill (bottom of frame). We would stop at the bottom, and wait while the vehicle in front of us gunned it and fish-tailed its way up the dune. Clearly timing was important because the driver needed just enough momentum to get to the very top of the dune, and then he would stop, perched on the crest. It was a little nerve-wracking for me because you could not see over the crest and didn't know how tall and steep the dune was on the other side. 

Now when I say "perched" on the crest of the dune, I mean perched. It's hard to tell from this picture, but the Land Rover in front of us is literally teetering on the dune, it's rear wheels in the air. Imagine how I felt looking up at this vehicle, watching it sit there precariously, and then slowly disappear over the other side. After a few minutes our driver gunned the motor and up the dune we went. When we reached the top and paused, it was just like being on a roller coaster and finding yourself at the top of first big dip, waiting to plunge over. The difference between dune bashing and roller coasters, though, is that when we went down the dune, the driver pretty much inched his way down very slowly and carefully. Aziz told us that the sand in the desert out near Liwa is very fine, unlike the courser sand closer to Abu Dhabi, and this makes for more treacherous driving. As we were going down these dunes I looked above me and for the first time noticed the roll bars, and I was very glad to see them.

We would stop at regular intervals so the drivers could lift the hoods of the Rovers and let the engines cool. They picked spots with a "view". Here Aziz pointed down excitedly, telling us there was an oasis. I approached the edge cautiously because it looked like it just dropped off, and I imagined myself losing my balance and rolling down the dune. Scary thought. 

When I peeked over the edge, this is what I saw. I guess when I heard "oasis" I was expecting something bigger.

I edged over a bit more so I could see a little better. The wind was blowing briskly as we stood looking down, grains of sand blowing across the tops of the dunes and into the air. I wondered how is it that these little oases survive? How is it that the desert doesn't overtake them and bury them in sand?

In places the sand drifts away exposing dark gravel below, and from a distance it can look like a lake.

Doug and Jeff in the expanse of the desert. Humbling.

It was well past noon and my stomach was rumbling with hunger. We crested yet another dune, and down below us was an oasis, this one considerably larger than the one we'd seen earlier. 

This oasis was our rest stop. Not to be confused with a pit stop, because there were no "facilities", and believe me I looked. No, we were stopping for a little snack and to have the opportunity to walk around an oasis. 

Apparently an oasis is a prime piece of real estate, and this one, like all the oases in the country, was owned by a member of the Royal Family. It was surrounded by fence, and I'm not sure why..... just to define the border? Or maybe wild camels wander in and munch the date palms? Anyway, there was a full-time staff at this oasis, tending to the date palms and doing whatever else one does at an oasis. When we arrived one of the men got busy rolling out some dough. Then he picked it up, pizza style, and stretched the dough even more. Our hungry crowd gathered round. 

There was some kind of heat source inside this nasty black, rusty-looking barrel because our cook draped the thin "crepe" over it with his rolling pin. He let it sit for a few minutes and then he flipped it over with the rolling pin. He repeated this several times until he deemed it done.

He told us it was roti, and he plunked it on a rough wooden table (if you could call it that) along with a plate of small dates which he said were harvested from the date palms at the oasis. We all helped ourselves to the flat bread by ripping off pieces. Flies had to be shooed away to get to the dates. 

Jeff is not an adventurous eater, so it is a testament to how hungry he was that he even ventured a taste. See how tentatively he's nibbling at it? The roti turned out to be quite good, and Jeff went back for seconds. He did, however, pass on the dates.

I wandered around and inspected the oases. Irrigation hose ran everywhere. In addition to the grove of date palms, there were several palm frond buildings, all of which were pretty primitive looking.

But..... there was a generator on the premises, and I spotted this A/C unit tucked into the wall of one of the huts. Doug said he spotted a TV dish too.  All the comforts, right?

One of the oasis caretakers had a small garden protected by a palm frond fence, and he ushered us all over to see it. He was clearly very proud of it.

I took this photo as we drove away. You can see the dune in the background that we drove down to reach the oasis. 

After our oasis visit we headed back across the desert and towards civilization. The Range Rovers intersected the highway at an ADNOC (Abu Dhabi National Oil Company) petrol station where they stopped to add air to their tires. It was only a short drive from there to the city of Liwa and our lunch destination at the Liwa Hotell.

Even though it had been a day of mostly sitting, it was still nice to relax poolside for an hour before heading back home. Doug got his double-shot espresso.

So now I've seen a desert, and it was awesome.  I think that word is used so casually these days that it's lost it's true meaning and power. I almost hesitate to use it, but I can think of no better word. 

I told Jeff I still want to visit his California deserts because I know all deserts are not the same, not by a long shot. Rather than think "now I've done deserts", I am motivated more than ever to visit Joshua Tree or Palm Springs or the Mojave Desert. I would love to see what they're like - in what ways they're similar to the Empty Quarter and how they differ. 

I don't think I'd want to spend the rest of my life living in a desert region, but I surely do enjoy visiting them.