on longhouse life

Something i found surprising about the Annah Rais longhouse was the fact that there were even more cats here than Kuching, a place called "Cat" in bhasa Malaysia. Before i go on to tell you about the longhouse's customs i should probably point out that, despite the name, a longhouse is not a single house. In fact it is a series of regular size houses - generally made of bamboo and/or wood - which all sit on top of a raised platform also made of bamboo.
The day traditionally starts by everyone going out onto the pathway outside their house and smoking with what looks a lot like a bong, the smoke is piped through the water before being inhaled. Everyone goes and joins their friends for a smoke and it is a very sociable way to start the day - an alternative to meeting for brunch i suppose. The bamboo floors seem to be not perfectly constructed as there are little gaps between each shoot but this is part of the design so not only do you have somewhere to stick your bong pipe but it keeps the place clean. This works by waiting for any dirt to dry as it will then simply fall through to the forest floor below.
Having walked around the village we were told that it took a week to do a round trip to Kuching a hundred years ago, a trip that took us an hour and a half the day before. Then we were taken to the equivalent of the village hall where they kept the skulls that remained from their head hunting days which were just over a hundred years ago. Oh, sorry. Did i not mention that they used to be head hunters? It must have slipped my mind. Well that's all done now and to prove it they have exchanged peace trees with the neighbouring tribe. It struck me as strange that if a particular insect was heard from the forest - which it was the day before - then it meant that someone in the village would die in the coming days but the fact that their peace tree was clearly dying signified nothing. That would strike me as a bad omen but, you know, each to their own.
The hall itself was simple but it was interesting to hear stories of how young men had to stay in here as part of the passage to manhood and somewhat disturbing to find out that they used to have over a hundred heads here. Firstly disturbing to think of that many decapitated people but it was mainly the reason why there are only about ten left that was strange; they had been broken whilst being played with. Yes that's right played with. And the only reason they said that they couldn't now was because otherwise they would run out of skulls to show visitors. This lack of reverence for the dead seems even stranger in retrospect given something we found out about other orang asli tribe's methods of dealing with the dead, but that is another story, one i will tell another time.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

four a.m

Your eyes open to darkness.

The fan sounds like sheets of rain crashing down on the streets outside,
the electricity surging is the thunder rumbling
until its zenith
where it claps,
punctuating the rain's whirring.

The heat crouches on you,
dormant,
like your back is to a fire, until the wind whispers past,
stroking you,
fleetingly,
with its fingers,
a tide crashing up the beach of your back only to sweep away again.

The fan halts the bead of sweat that runs down the indentation of your spine, a but-once running river, but only for a second before it may again pick its way down.

on Bornean waterfalls

After a few days of side trips from Kuching we headed deeper into Borneo to stay in a longhouse with the orang asli - the indigenous people here - for a few days. We were greeted with a shot of rice brandy...at nine in the morning. If we were still teetering on the edge of sleep - having woken up early to get there - we weren't anymore.
The plan for the day was for a couple of guides to take us on a walk to a waterfall about an hour away (retrospectively we wondered on what transport). Oh, it's an hour for the guides, maybe it will take you two if you stop a lot to take plenty of pictures. Stop a lot, we did not (no rhyme intended). Take a lot of photos...although it was an amazing walk, better even than Bako, due to the fact that ten inch caterpillars and leeches found us whenever we tried to stop so we did not. Walk at break-neck speed up, and it was always up, for three hours, we did. But wait. That's not a waterfall. That's a road. We could have driven this far!? "Okay, now we're halfway." Halfway!? what on earth happened to an hour if you didn't take pictures!? Sure we stopped for a couple of minutes to take pictures of the insect-eating pitcher plants but that was a couple of minutes no a couple of hours!
Fortunately halfway was a bad estimate. We arrived at the waterfall what seemed like a quarter of an hour later. In reality it took an hour but being able to walk on a flat and dryish path made the time feel negligible compared to our uphill drag across bamboo bridges - one at a time please or we'll roll back to the bottom - slipping back a few inches each time you took a step. But even if we had been walking for ten hours the waterfall would have been worth it. The cool water refreshed our hot sticky skin (my t-shirt as a matter of interest took 48 hours to not quite dry afterwards). The waterfall was layered so it was possible to climb up the rocks to another couple of levels and at the top one, across a pool, the full force of the waterfall could be felt. Finally i understood the herbal essences adverts.
After cooling off and climbing the rocks a bit more we settled down to the bamboo chicken soup that our guides had prepared for us whilst we played in the water and we started contemplating our route home. Down the way we had just come up, back across the bamboo bridges (bridges might be an overstatement, try three shots of bamboo tied together with, sometimes, another as a handrail), back past the leeches, back on the slippery path or on the hilly road which was dry and firm and easy for walking. The shadeless road was unanimously chosen. Shirts were taken off. Shoes were taken off. And we walked up and down the Bornean hills back to the village surrounded by panoramas of the jungle. Lovely.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

on Bako National Park and proboscis monkeys

The day after Semenggoh and the caves we journeyed to Bako National Park (which, as i'm sure you've noticed, has the unfortunate acronym BNP). Because it is on an island we had to take a boat from mainland Borneo. Although extra travel time may seem like an inconvenience, especially given our hostel's positioning right on the Kuching waterfront with antique shops lining our street, the boat trip was one of the highlights of the day. That is not to say that Bako was not amazing, but there is only so much one can take in trekking through dense rainforest. The boat on the other hand, offered a speed (and a breeze) that was conducive to leisurely appreciating the magnificent scenery that went by. We pulled out of the jetty, passed old fishing boats and house on stilts that lined the mouth of the river and before long we were cutting along the coastline. Most of the land was untamed and as a consequence was densely populated by foliage. We streaked past islands of trees and jutting cliffs, our imaginations allowed to run riot on what fauna might exist there.
We docked at a jetty which was positioned next to a skeletal clump of dead trees, knee deep in water. One of Borneo's most famous - and peculiar looking - animals is the proboscis monkey. If you don't know what one looks like have a quick Google search. Right, see what i mean now? That is one strange nose; in fact it was originally called the Netherlands man monkey after the Dutch settlers. Now i've been to the Netherlands and travelled with a Dutch firl...let's just say Dutch people don't look like that. If you don't believe me it might be time to use that Google search again. Now that that is all cleared up, suffice to say: we saw some, which apparently was rather lucky, so that's nice.
But before we were to see a group of four of these strange monkeys from up close and with a direct line of sight we trekked up through forest along paths that were so inundated with roots they looked as if the roots were trickles of water, separately running down from the top of the island just to get a flash of proboscis through the trees. It was a combination of these roots and something which seemed like moss but, when trod on, compressed about two inches that broke my sandals. Luckily we had already reached the plateau on top of the island and descended past otherworldly purple rocks to a lovely beach where we paddled in water as warm as a bath and started our return to the jetty before it happened so there wasn't too much climbing left to do.
Usually when walking with roots underfoot you need to keep at least one eye on the ground. With your heel sliding every which way at the back of a sandal, then, you would be forgiven for concentrating entirely on your route and it would be very easy to miss the poisonous snakes asleep on branches and a massive spider in its correspondingly massive web overhead but these delights were pointed out to me. Nothing like fear of death to put fear of twisted ankle out of mind. Fortunately neither materialised and all that was left to do was get the boat back past some impressive sea stacks.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

Bornean Caves

Although the Wind Cave would later buck the trend, the fairy cave continued on from Baku's lead by positioning itself high up and thus many stairs up. Since the years of Chinese gold mining a new staircase has been built but some of the old one remains. This looked slightly magical as it was not connected to the rock-face at any point other than the base and the summit. The stairs were constructed by laying a long piece of wood against the wall and building steps with concrete on that before stripping away the wood once the cement had set. Having no railings - health and safet...what? - and seemingly supported by faith alone the stairs really did have an air of magic about them.
Once in the cave the climbing continued, much to the despair of my sweat-sodden shirt; although in my defense the term 'Borneo's sweaty interior' seems not only to refer to those who travel it but the rainforest itself which seems to perspire the mist that undulatingly rolls through it. Sweating up the elvish tracks which would around boulders and sparse vegetation it felt like you might encounter Tolkien's Moria. It would not shock me to learn that Tolkien journeyed here and drew inspiration from the place.
Only once you had climbed towards the stalactites, picking your way through the stalagmites could you admire the true beauty of the cave chamber. The meandering stairs you had just climbed seemed to disappear into an abyss and there was a huge opening allowing the Bornean sun to stream in, almost blinding you but for the dense greenery that framed the opening.
Lord of the Rings must have been on my mind or maybe the place just provoked thoughts of it but i would have believed that elves had made this place long ago and since abandoned it to nature, leaving only their paths and a few platforms - one of which, in particular, would have made an excellent station for a throne. However, shocked as i'm sure you'll be, it turned out that it was not elves but the Chinese gold miners who had made and abandoned the site in the 1970's though there is also evidence to suggest that a long time ago people did live here too.
A few kilometres further North is the Wind Cave. This offers the tunnel network ying to the Fairy Cave's grand chamber's yang. There was very little natural light so we rented a torch for our boardwalked stroll along the mercifully flat tunnels. The darkness was far more conducive to bats than in the Fairy Cave so we could hear the chitter chatter of these little echolocators but, unfortunately, not the billowing wind that the cave was named after - though a pleasant breeze remains - as changes in pressure levels mean you can no longer hear the formerly deafening wind.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

hello there Mr Orangutan

On our first day in Kuching (which is bhasa malaysia for cat - yes i was excited too) we started with a trip to Semenggoh. Semenggoh is an orangutan sanctuary so all of the orangutans are wild and don't interact with the humans running it; they are just kept an eye on and provided with fruit handouts at feeding platforms - though they rarely go to these during fruit seasons due to their own ability to find their own. As it is only a protected area sightings are not guaranteed so we felt very lucky to see a mother and child pair just before the entrance gate, well. we saw them from there, they spend most of their time in the trees. Given the ease and grace with which they move this isn't hard to believe. At one point the child orangutan was moving along a horizontal vine with just its right foot and right hand in contact whilst it hang down; it was hardly surprising to find out they are seven times stronger than humans of equal weight. The baby slid its foot towards its hand until they touched then let go with its hand and grabbed further along, repeating the action until it caught up with its mother who carried him on her tummy as she climbed somewhat more sensibly. This was the first indicator of the interchangeability of feet and hands. The second was when the same monkey held a bamboo shoot on with side of it with its hands - at a casual twenty five feet above the ground - whilst feeding itself with its feet.
Given the fact that they were wild, the only place you could reliably see these people of the forest was the feeding platforms. After a short walk through the dense rainforest we came to another clearing from where you could see another feeding area, but this time it was occupied by a male. Now the males weight twice as much as the females and this fella was big. With his enormous pile of fruit though, i couldn't help but think of King Louis from the Jungle Book. and with a Disney-esque sense of humour and timing another child orangutan snuck down a bamboo shoot and took some bananas which it ran off with in its foot fingers. Our attention was immediately recalled to the male as we heard a loud bang. A war cry? A threat to this tiny primate? No. Coconut opening time! The large male stripped the outsides with his teeth before thwacking the coconut against the platforms and opening it in just two blows. Now anyone who has ever won a coconut at a coconut shy - or had a dad help at one and get some of the un-won ones afterwards (guilty as charged) - will know how hard coconut shells are. Just another exhibition of the apes' immense strength, just a teensy bit less playfully demonstrated than the child monkey's philosophy on gravity: "Upside down? No Problem. Gravity only chooses which way I fall (if that ever happened) not the direction or the angle that I climb."

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

Long time no see

Wow what a long gap. No internet in the Bornean interior or in our hostel in Penang combined with laziness in Kuching equals no new posts. But now i must try to remember and ah yes i do have some notes written in the back of my diary, phew! New posts coming up soon, hope you enjoy them.

on Singapore

After the cultural shift that was Malaysia Singapore feels strange. It is odd to be in such a Westernised place and although it's impressive that such as young country is so developed (Singapore celebrates its 46th birthday soon) it doesn't really appeal after Malaysia. Things i might enjoy at home seem superficial and frivolous expenditure here, especially given the Western prices. Sure it was nice to have soft pillows, fancy showers with showerheads like suns, air con that actually works and coffee you can drink but Singapore is more of a palate-cleanse than a taste to savour. It is firmly back in the comfort zone with easy meals at Subway and a wooden toast shop (which i must admit was rather exciting and did do good toast). Breathing is markedly easier given lower pollution levels and humidity levels the right side of seventy percent again. I think my preconceptions  of a country famous for its ex-pat community and astronomical fines for the possession of chewing gum set me against it from the start. This was not helped by the list of fines outside the underground station: $1000 for smoking; $500 for eating or drinking; a more understandable $5000 for flammable goods; and an understandable, if rather comical, ban of the durian fruit.
Odd bans and high fines aside i'm sure it would be a nice place to live it's just hard for a backpacker to particularly identify with or connect with. I was ready to bemoan the materialistic culture of shopping centres you need a Masters degree to navigate and flower beds that pump music at you as you walk past before i fell prey to it myself in a National Geographic shop though in my defence i spent under $18and bought biodegradable shoes which i plan to use as in Borneo as they will be more leech-proof than my sandals. I will admit it: the shopping is very good, that just isn't what i travel; the variety of cuisine is gargantuan and to a high quality but again it is difficult to accommodate it in a shoestring budget. However, it definitely will serve as a reset button for my travels and was some welcome respite and for that i am grateful.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

Tea time in Malacca

In Malacca the restaurants generally shut at four or five in the afternoon, a little inconvenient for dinner. A Malay-European fusion restaurant still open was out as they had the sheer audacity to charge seven pounds for a main course. The Korean place we had planned on eating at (where you could sit at tables over a pond where fish would come and nibble the dead skin off of your feet) had closed and turned into a shop selling Angry Birds merchandise, an Angry Birds merch church in Malaysia, who would have thought it? We were facing a trek across the river to the other side of the other half of town for an Indonesian eatery when we were approached by an old Indian woman offering us a leaflet.
Asia is no different to London, or the Occidental world in general, if you're offered a leaflet (unless you are on a Danny Wallace-esque quest) you have three options. Option the First, the rude option: completely ignore the leafleter and continue walking whilst pretending that you are far too busy to indulge in such frivolities; Option the Second, the polite Percival/Penelope: politely decline the offer with a smile before wishing them a good day (if you do this and it isn't sunny and/or you're not having a particularly good day i commend you) and; Option the Third, standard Brit: take the leaflet to avoid awkwardness or perceived rudeness, glance at it and either put it in the bin around the corner or take it home to recycle. We did none of these. We broke the rules. We did what surely no two people have ever done. We took the leaflet. We looked at the leaflet. Enquired further. And. And followed the small Indian woman down a street to a tea house where we were assured there was food. Followed even after we were told about the "short cut".
But a short cut it was. And dinner available there was. And the "option" of a tea ceremony afterwards...there wasn't. No option that is. Plenty of tea ceremony. Three hours of tea ceremony. And i don't even like tea. And it was great! We learnt all about different types of Chinese teas and how best to prepare and brew them right down to how the value of a clay teapot increases with each use (you pour the first brewing over it) as it gets stained by the tea. I asked whether people didn't just cheat by leaving it to soak in strong tea. I was not expecting her answer to be as touching as it was. She said that you could but no-one would because you watch the teapot growing up and maturing just as you would with your child. Aside from this sweet explanation we also grew to appreciate how hot water could taste sweet after the bitterness of tea and how durian fruit altered the taste too. Even for a non-drinker of tea it was a very enjoyable way to spend a few hours in Malacca and our host knew plenty and was keen to impart her knowledge, expertise and passion for an art that extends a long way back into Chinese history. I would strongly urge anyone in Malacca to find the Zheng He Tea House for a few hours of soothing diversion and an overwhelmingly relaxing time; despite our aircon being broken that evening i slept the best i have all trip.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

on the Batu Caves

On our last day of our first stay in KL we ventured out to the Batu Caves. They are caves (how did you guess?) which, when discovered, were turned into a Hindu temple. Oh so many stairs! Batu is a popular pilgrimage site around the Thaipusam festival but what a slap in the face it must be, having walked for miles, to be faced by the two hundred and seventy two steps to the top. And once you've finally scaled them, sweat dripping out of every pore as the sun shines in your face as you ascend you go down some steps, seemingly, just so that they can take you up some more without having to go higher up.
Before you get to the top there is the option to go into the so called Dark Cave. It worked on us, yeah sure we'll pay that to walk through a cave which is dark in order to just stop climbing these damned stairs, maybe it'll even be cool in there. Cool it was, dark it was, stepless...it was not. Fortunately we didn't step in too much guano (bat droppings) as we were provided with torches and a very bouncy, energetic guide (who refered to me as Scott having got confused by Kat's surname. I have now tried being called Scott for nearly an hour, i would not recommend it.) who told us a bit about different cave formations (one of which looked uncannily like the waves painted by Hokusai right down to the spray) and the animals, aside from bats, that could be found there. One of these was the long-legged millipede. Aptly, if not inventively, named it turned out; it was five inches long and three inches wide! We were also told about the spiney millipede which she showed us a photo of. We were then asked to guess how long it was, most people guessed about an inch or three, all except one Finnish guy who reckoned on it being around two foot long. Amazingly it turned out that he was right, it was a metre to a metre and a half long! Skepticism started. Our guide said that if it was called it would also come to the path for feeding and started making a clicking noise to call it. Skepticism remained. We were then asked to help calling it. Some people did. Skepticism persisted. We were told it was in fact only two inches long. Skepticism was validated. Overall the Dark Cave was enjoyable and when we turned off our torches it really was impossible to see your hand in front of your face. This made it all the more beautifully eery when there was a hole through which light could pierce the cave walls and suddenly it made sense why the caves were turned into a temple.
The temple itself was quite nice but slightly overrun with monkeys, one of whom followed me down the steps trying to take my plastic bag of food. He literally ran rings around me but i had the last laugh emerging with the bag intact and so ended our trip to Batu. Next stop Melaka.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

Cosmopolitan people and their religions

Having stayed in Chinatowns wherever we have been so far we are perhaps more conscious of how cosmopolitan a country Malaysia is. There is a Malay majority but they tend to live in more rural areas and the population is made up by thirty percent Chinese and ten percent Indian, a fact i relish when meandering through the hawker stalls we tend to eat from. This also lends the religious scene even more flavour. Whereas in Europe you can get a little swamped by churches (i love this because they are regularly the most beautiful buildings in a town but Kat isn't so keen after the first thirty or so) and the cultural palate slowly stales at the homogeneity of church after church, here there is a patchwork of Hindu and Buddhist temples as well as mosques for the Islamic majority.
Every morning in KL we walk past a Buddhist temple. I love the smell of the incense sticks that are being burnt en masse. If you can't smell durian fruit or incense you aren't in Malaysia. As you enter the temple you see the spiraling incense sticks that are a couple of feet long and a foot wide at their widest point hanging above your head, you just have to watch out that the soot doesn't land on you - so far, so clean. It overwhelms not only the nose but the eyes with vibrant colours at every turn, such a vibrantly place to worship but so calm and quiet. Quietness, though, can sometimes be oppressive in a place of worship. Not here, it lends a peacefulness to the temple that draws me back again and again - not a bad quality for a religious building.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

KL as a tourist city plonked on top of a jungle

It is becoming increasingly apparent that KL is a city plonked on top of a jungle. That revelation continued today at the Lake Gardens (i'll let your imagination run wild - there's not much i can say that explains it any further) but it was prompted by the park in the centre that i've already talked about and Lake Titiwangsa to the North of the city where you have a clear sight over the jagged skyline above the lake. There's a strange photo where,because of the fog, you cannot see the Petronas Towers except for their reflection in the water. It's strange to think about cities like that, like they haven't always really existed. Obviously it's true and if you stopped and thought about it you would know but i feel we take urbanity for granted a little (rather than human impositions on nature), especially in countries we are new to.
Staying so close to Chinatown it can be a little hard to not feel like a tourist. Every time you walk down the street you hear: "Yes, Sir, nice watch for you!" - No, thanks i can't read the time - "Yes, Sir, cool sunglasses for you" - I'm wearing my own! - "Yes, Sir, DVDs for you" - I...only own a VCR player sorry - and the less imaginative "Eat here, Sir" - I've already eaten (then sitting down at the table next door because the menu was better). Having said that, you can get off the tourist crawl just by getting off the main thoroughfares and turning into the places the locals are selling ingredients in a market rather than meals. It's here that you really get a glimpse at the city's soul. People are no longer trying to sell to you (how likely is it that a white man in KL is going to cook their own food when the choice between Chinese, Nonya and Indian food can satiate any cravings not already put to bed by the exotic fruits or chestnuts roasted in an oil barrel full of hot gravel?) nor are they putting on a front for the tourists. You get to see life as it is for the majority of Malaysians, i like that.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

thoughts on arrival

On the first evening i really had no idea of the size of Kuala Lumpur; it seemed to be a gigantic metropolis when flying in. The density of lights staring out into the darkness of the night's sky gave this opening impression. An impression that was swiftly seconded by the taxi driver's inability to find our hostel despite us giving him an address, it makes sense that we took so long to find it walking having never visited the city but surely a taxi driver should be able to find it, no? We scurried past lizards, rats and a prostitute (who, to her credit was playing with a cat - amazing the effect that can have on my opinion of someone) and our despair was finally lifted when someone from another hostel agreed to walk us there - oh how travel relies on the kindness of strangers. This did nothing to dispel the impression of an unknowable metropolis, unnavigatable to tourists.
After the first breakfast for days (eaten only out of duty to routine - i still had no idea if i was hungry or not), in the light of day the city did not seem so large and now on returning seems only to be a small city easily navigated via the punctual and efficient underground and overground train services (outside of one there is a No Motorbikes sign which has been ignored by at least fifty bikers who seem to have made a point of parking solely around it). We have now returned to KL from Melaka in order to get a bus to Singapore and know the streets like those of our home town, well, in Chinatown where we are staying at least. Although now it is second nature taking the trains, on the first day, having asked for a train to the city centre, we were asked where in the centre. Umm, well...what do you say to that when you have no idea where you're going? I went for, "where do you think we should go?" - The lady was rather bemused - and only a little amused - at this and didn't suggest anything.
Having successfully negotiated that dilemma with the aid of a train map (when someone asks you for the city centre and there is a stop called Kuala Lumpur City Centre, how hard can it really be to send them there?!)  and bypassed the shopping centre we had an enjoyable stroll about the park in the centre. It is an inextinguishable joy i feel each time i look through the rainforest-like trees to see a thirty storey building scraping the overcast sky, if only they could tear some holes in the canvas of clouds to permit us a little sunshine. Thirty storeys, however, is nothing compared to the famous Petronas Towers. Vast pillars of engineering stretching eighty-three storeys high, how long does that add to the commute to work on the top floor? And what happens if the lift is broken, who needs a cardio programme when you can work there.
Continuing around this jungle in the middle of the corporate canopy we happened on a mosque. The architecture was simple but attractive adding to the stillness (interrupted only by children playing downstairs) of the place. This was certainly a place of beauty and stillness away from the interminable buzz of the city.
Leaving the mosque that feeling quickly subsided when we encountered the 'Bosch Power Drill powered races'. Go karts powered by power tools. You could almost smell the testosterone. Sadly we decided against waiting an hour and a half for the race to begin but who knows, maybe we'll catch the World Finals in China (yes that's right, this was only the qualifying round to represent Malaysia). Or maybe not.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.

on flying and Dubai

Hello there, it's been a long time without me being able to update this but i have some time and some internet so let's see what happens. The whole trip started really impressively with both Kat and i losing our wallets. Fortunately i only left mine on the bus to the airport and ran back to get it and Kat only thought she had lost it; nothing like a bit of anxiety to start a trip.
Maybe it's just me but i always find Dubai quite magical to fly into. Last time, in transit to Cape Town, the sun was just rising over the desert dunes as we landed but i wasn't near enough to a window to see this time until we were leaving again. It wasn't sunrise but ten in the morning but the roads and mountains had a beautiful stillness. There are so few landmarks or perceptible objects in the desert that the two roads running parallel  looked like tentacles reaching endlessly or ink spills traipsing down a pine desk. The small patches of grass as green as green can be are always fun too just for their sheer unnaturalness. I cannot have idea of Man conquering Nature and the elements to make the grass grow without thinking of Burkean theories on the sublime and the beautiful as that which inspires the belief in God being swept away by the denial of the natural order (maybe that's why Dubai is secular in comparison to Abu Dhabi, the capital). It is so strange to have so many thoughts about a place i have only ever transited through! The flights were fine but the fact that the plane went West-East and the sun East-West not only confused my sleep patterns but my eating ones, i missed two breakfasts as it was never the right time for where i was flying to. I no longer knew whether i should be hungry or should be tired, it's strange how quickly you can lose control of the most normal things.

If you enjoyed this you might like to head on over to my travel blog at travelatalexleclez.blogspot.com for more.