Fun and games on the Dubai Metro

Now ‘sailing’ across the Dubai Creek is very easy: Just get on an Abra, which is a flat bottomed, open sided water taxi, pay the ‘captain 1 Dirham, squeeze yourself in amongst the locals and enjoy the waterfronts of Bur Dubai and Deira.

I thought that the recently opened Dubai Metro was going to be almost as much fun and that turned out to be true too, but in a slightly different way.



The Metro stations are immaculate, direction signs are and fares are cheap. The trains are driverless so on my first two journeys I got in the front carriage to enjoy a head on view of the track and the city.

Unfortunately I began to take my front row ‘seat’ for granted and came unstuck today. Here’s what happened… I walk in the front carriage, head for the window and begin sight seeing. A smartly uniformed lady then says hello to me. “That’s good,” I thought, “they occasionally have staff on board to help people out.” She asked me for my ticket and told me that I was in Gold Class!

Gold Class? Yes, before being politely ejected, I noticed leather seats and carpeted floors although there were still people standing. Madam kindly asked me to join the masses further back so I headed into the next carriage and got lots of stares. How come? You guessed it, I was in the ladies carriage! Ooo errr missus, that’ll teach me to take more notice of the signs.

I think I’ll sit in the middle from now on…

3 Cups of Tea

Three Cups of Tea is a book by Greg Mortenson and David Relin. It describes Mortenson's transition from a mountaineer to a person committed to reducing poverty and educating children in Pakistan and Afghanistan.

The book's title comes from a Balti proverb: "The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you take tea, you are an honored guest. The third time you share a cup of tea, you become family...". The book is a marvellous, inspiring and uplifting read that I strongly recommend you to.

In 1992, Greg Mortenson attempted to climb K2, the world's second highest mountain, in northern Pakistan. After more than 70 days on the mountain, Greg and three other climbers had their ascent interrupted by the need to rescue one of their tea.m who was suffering from altitude sickness Greg got disorientated and lost during the descent, became weak and exhausted, and by chance and alone, instead of arriving where his porters were waiting for him, he came across Korphe, a small remote village. There he was greeted and taken in by the people of Korphe and its chief - Haji Ali.

To repay the impoverished community for its hospitality, Mortenson promised to build a school for the village. After lengthy difficulties in trying to raise capital, Mortenson was introduced to Jean Hoerni, a Silicon Valley pioneer who donated the money that Mortenson needed for his school. In the last months of Hoerni's life (Hoerni was dying from leukemia), he co-founded the Central Asia Institute, endowing the CAI to build schools in rural Pakistan and Afghanistan.

Mortenson faced many daunting challenges in his quest to raise funds for the building of more schools, including death threats from a mullah, long periods of separation from his family, and being kidnapped by Waziri tribesmen. As violence raged in Afghanistan and more and more young people came under the influence of the madrassas, Mortensen emphasised that education was the key to lasting peace – books not bombs was his mantra!

In the post-9/11 world, Mortenson tried to convince Americans that extending the hand of friendship and fighting ignorance by educating people was the best way to eradicate extremism. The people of northern Pakistan were convinced by him, though some Americans took a lot more persuading, feeling that all Muslims were enemies of the USA. 'Dr Greg', as he became known in the region realised that educated rural boys tended to move to the cities to find jobs, and seldom returned to their villages. By contrast, educated girls tended to remain in the community and pass their enhanced knowledge to the next generation.

The story is heart-warming and as much a tribute to the generosity of spirit of the tribal people of northern Pakistan as it is to Greg Mortensen. Three Cups of Tea – read it!

Bath Festival 1969

Well, not really 40 years ago today. On 31 December 2009 I visited Bath, the first time I had set foot there in over forty years...

The last time was Saturday 28 June 1969. Kevin Williams and I had been out on Friday night in his white mini traveller - to the Black Swan in Much Dewchurch, I think. Why there? Well, somebody almost always told Kevin, or if not, he cleverly acquitred the information, about a party. Sometimes the parties were great, sometimes they weren't our cup of tea, i.e. lots of nice, conventional people!

Out of the Black Swan some time around midnight and where next? Usually we just drove, summer nights and empty roads. I can't have been an accident but I do not remember any plan to go to Bath but there we were, on the pavement at fisrt light and surrounded by a what seemed to me to be a mass of magical, mysterious looking people, the males with giant bushes of frizzy hair, beards, beads, sunglasses and the girls? Well to me, fresh out of school, they all seemed exotic and beautiful in their flowing robes, and with their beads, bangles and necklaces. It dawned on me that there was a music concert about to take place but not just any old concert, one featuring groups whose LPs I had been playing at top volume for months and some groups I had yet to experience.

How on earth were we to get in?

I walked in front of Kevin and there on the pavement were two tickets. Luck? That's a most understated way of expressing our good fortune. I was briefly sorry for whoever dropped them but anticipation took over, thus preventing me from doing the right thing, such as I hand them in at the police station and at the end of the day if nobody has claimed them, I can have them back. Fat chance!

The day was warm. We sat at the front and did not move from our spot all day - no breakfast, lunch, trips to the toilet or anything else as far as I remember. Perhaps some kindly souls occasionally passed us things to eat and drink, people did that in those days, but I do not recall it happening that day.

I remember just sitting there, listening, enthralled.

I can visualise Keef Hartley's drumming, Stan Webb with his guitar attached to his amp by an enormous lead, strolling out into the crowd who rose in rapture. Taste and Colosseum, who we used to watch regulary, and Alvin Lee's demonic playing. The Nice appeared with the Band of the Royal Scots Guards (I think) and then... Led Zeppelin. Everything was different after hearing them.

Attached are a couple of photos. The first is of the crowd in 1969, I'm in there somewhere, with my slightly long hair. The other is of me on 31 December 2009, on the pavement outside the Recreation Ground, just where I picked up those life changing two tickets...