I woke up around 8am, though Nicole was stirring because she had heard the call to prayer. We had the foresight to order some pastries from Paul and had a proper breakfast of pastries. Such meals are novelties these days. We were also able to do a couple loads of laundry and the funk is mostly out of our clothes. Things are really coming together for us.
After finishing up a load of laundry, we set out in an Uber to the Jubail Mangrove Park. Appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the desert are these mangroves where one can kayak, or in the case of Jubail, walk along the 2 km boardwalk.
We were surprised to see numerous fish, crabs, herons, and other wildlife active in a region that just seems so inhospitable to life. It reminded me a bit of Death Valley, where there are tiny pools of water that form the habitat for the tiny pupfish. Unlike Death Valley, however, the Jubail park had a surprising amount of water, and in different colors.
After we made a full circuit around the park, we sought refuge in air conditioning at the visitor’s center, which also had a small cafe. Inside this cafe were about 7 children screaming and running for no reason. If you are parents with young children and think to yourself, “I like to travel, but my kids are really awful creatures, annoying, and loud. Also my parenting skills are quite poor.” Well don’t fret! The Emirates is where you want to be.
We ate at the café while enduring children scurrying about us, screaming, and opening doors while running in and out of the building. We eventually escaped in a taxi. For whatever reason, Uber said we were out of their range even though they had just dropped us off in the same spot. To further complicate matters, the taxi driver said he didn’t take credit card even though there was clearly an icon for just that purpose on his meter. Apparently this is actually a thing for Abu Dhabi taxis. You can do contactless if you download their app which then requires an Emirati phone number. Apps in the Emirates have never worked great for us, and today was no exception. We had to get some cash from the hotel lobby to pay the guy. There are a lot of inconsistencies. The city of Abu Dhabi was like an impenetrable fortress of covid restrictions not long ago, and we are still asked to show vaccination cards, covid test results, and our temperatures are checked everywhere. And then they’re like, “Oh yeah, handling cash is totally ok. Now please sign with this pen that’s been used by 1000 people.”
It’s a weird city. There are high rises everywhere, traffic cruises along wide 6-lane boulevards, as the ubiquitous food delivery scooters zip around to deliver Paul’s to an appreciative recipient. It has all the elements that Dubai possesses, but there’s just a different feel to it. I can’t quite put it into words, but it’s like the city is lacking in life. Dubai is like the “fun” younger sibling — a little reckless, free-spirited, and always down for an alcohol-free party that lasts well into the night. Abu Dhabi is like, “Keep it quiet down there. I have to work in the morning.”
Fitting with this uptight conservative model, I had scheduled us a time to visit the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. They had a very strict dress code, which was more of a challenge for Nicole than it was for me. I just had to wear pants. They also don’t like shirts with graphics or logos. I had one on that said, “Go Sports!,” so I layered it with a button up. Nicole had to wear loose clothing to avoid looking like a woman. Always resourceful, she had also packed a scarf that could double as a hijab or proper neck scarf if we find ourselves in a colder climate. Unfortunately for Nicole, she had to cover her arms, so she used a light hoodie, but it was 95 degrees out, so this wasn’t ideal attire. You could buy a cheap abaya, or full robe, but they all came in black, and it seemed like those would actually have been worse for the weather. Nicole had her own style.
For a mosque that had such a strict dress code, you might be surprised to know that its entrance is through an underground mall where such famous Islamist companies like McDonalds or Starbucks greeted visitors. Having had such few options back in the Seychelles, Nicole exclaimed, “This is like Mecca down here.” This statement cannot be verified. I have not been to Mecca, but perhaps they too have a Tim Horton’s at the entrance.
The mosque itself is an impressive sight. It has 82 domes, all looking like they’ve just been cleaned. It is surrounded on both sides by a reflecting pool, which wasn’t very reflective when we visited, but this was due to a light breeze which was probably very beneficial to poor Nicole.
The inner courtyard is cordoned off to visitors, which aided us in getting better photos. Marble was heavily used in its design and there was a nice shine to everything. Nicole wanted to ride a skateboard on such smooth tiles. This would have obviously caused quite a scandal. A woman on a skateboard? The path around the mosque led us down various corridors and eventually into the prayer areas.
Everything is very intricate and immaculate, but remember that like most things in the Emirates, this is only like 15 years old, so it hasn’t shown much wear and tear yet. Eventually we made a full circle around the mosque and ended back where we started.
I was glad we were finally able to see the mosque. I had really been wanting to see it since we were a stone’s throw away last year in Dubai. Box – checked. We caught an Uber back to the Grand Mercure, and ordered from Paul again for dinner. We ordered the exact same thing as last night. When you know, you know.
We capped off our night by running the old laundry once more and repacking for our next leg to Amsterdam. This morning we had a flight booked to Brussels. I like to keep everyone on their toes — including myself. I had to attach our PCR results from last night (negative if you’re curious), vaccine records, and a Dutch health declaration. That means we can go in the special fast-track Etihad checkin lines tomorrow. Oh boy!
passports & pepto bismol 