Flight to Kampala, via Addis Ababa (and outer space)

A few quick words on the flight from Dubai to Entebbe, via Addis Ababa.
First we flew over the desert and jagged, unforgiving terrain of the mountains. It looked like Mars. It was beautiful from the air, but I couldn’t help feeling lucky to have been born in Alder Hey and not amid the ridges and valleys of such an inhuman environment.

Don’t believe me that it looks like another planet? Check out this crater, photographed from 30,000ft with no great zoom.

We touched down in Addis Ababa and were informed that we would be proceeding to the “VIP gate” before any other passengers could disembark. I pleaded with the hostess for gossip, but she stayed resolutely tight-lipped. Then came the marching band. We can only assume our mysterious celeb was somehow connected to the forthcoming African Union conference.

The red carpet may have faded pink, but Addis looked like somewhere very, very special, cloaked in greenery and awash with colour. We’d love to go back.

First stop, Dubai

So we’ve seen it: Dubai, jewel of the desert, errant pin-up of the credit crunch age. And the best thing about arriving somewhere laden with prejudice is that even in a 12-hour stay you can write the place off as being just as bad as you expected.

The only time we saw the city in daylight was from our departure gate at the airport. It lay shrouded in smog, hardly surprising considering that the previous evening the meter in our taxi told us it had taken 15 minutes to travel 0.9km.

Taxis were a feature of our short stay. To anyone who stays at the Grand Midwest Bur Dubai, we give the simple advice: don’t let the hotel arrange your transfer, just get a taxi. We waited nearly an hour for the man for the hotel, gave up, discovered that the taxi fare was about a quarter of the cost of the transfer, and then spent half an hour at the other end arguing with the receptionist about why we were in our rights to give up on the man they’d sent.

We ate at the Royal Ascot hotel, which showed the positive side of living in Dubai. The (Thai) food was fantastic. Our recently installed ex-pat friends, Hugh and Hattie, are clearly living the good life. Despite its well-documented problems, Dubai still seems to be a land of plentiful opportunity and luxurious lifestyle.

And let’s face it, London isn’t exactly short of smog, traffic and debt, so I should probably get off my high horse. If we’re all quite happy to slate Dubai’s success for being founded on a credit bubble, it’s probably best not to consider what “Great” Britain’s was based upon.