'attawarul-akhir li thairanul imarat raqam tis'ah tis'ah
thalathah.....'

dubai has always been a place that i both love and
loathe at the same time.


when i first got to dubai, it was 2004 and i was jobless,
and my grandpa sent me there to get a view of what
dubai had to offer in terms of career.

i liked it back then.


mainly because it had a virgin record store, which to
me, was the coolest feature to have when you're into
music (later i proved myself wrong as a trident) and
other shit.

yeah, that was my first impression of dubai. it was cool.

fast forward to 2007. it's my third (or fifteenth) time in
Dubayy (i think that's how it should be romanized) and
my first impression of it had severely changed.

there's simply too much. but if you're into nostalgic,
you could always go to Bur Dubayy. it's like old town.
which is not so old anyways. but you could still taste
the flavor of what dubai's like about 20 years ago.


i had a taste of it last february 2006. yeap.

and i had food poisoning. i kid you not.

and it's the worst thing that could happen to any
traveller. let's just say that i survived and wrote a book
about it. NOT !


so this time around, my prelim plan was to spend my
20 hours transit time in the terminal. you know, the
usual surf internet, play ps2, eat at the lounge, sleep
cycle.

alas, there's only so much time-wasting a man can
bear. not until he snaps, get his passport stamped
and got into a cab.

i did go out. yeap. just 5km from the terminal.

the city centre.


ha ha ha. just like the mice, following the mind-numbing
tunes of the pied piper.

ah, such is the power of the consumerism.

it's around noon, and i was famished. of course, being
any level headed man, i'd go straight to a food court
and proceeded to lunch.

the food court took me by surprise. whoa.


there's so much to choose! lebanese, indian, american,
scandinavian, mongol, esparto....

after some soul searching, and some technical
considerations, i did what any sensible, adventurous
traveler would do.

i chose the most exotic food available.

K, F-ing C.

hell hath no fury like a man scorned for KFC.




so, with lunch out of the way, i went to explore
the record store that i'd highly praised earlier, in search
of what i hoped to be the long-lost quest for obscure,
hard-rock music.

i might as well go to sungei patani.

the selection was shit. i couldn't believe it. maybe i've
put my expectations a bit too high. frustrated as i was,
i ended up at one of the landmarks of modern western
emperialism.

carre-F-ing-FORE.

i didn't care much about retail shopping, but it turned
out that my shoes were one size too small, and the
insoles were literally digging into my heels.

to cut things short, i bought this, i bought that, i
spent 30 bucks, bla bla bla.

and i went to the airport. i checked in (i was the first)
and got to the duty free shop.

to my surprise, i found two of the records that i wanted
to buy. well, technically, it's four. but i ran out of cash.

so i bought them. arctic monkeys. carole king. aed100.

i didn't find the soundtrack to 'the last kiss', though.
maybe the sequel to it.

buy buy buy.

as the time for boarding came, i realised that even
though dubai is not your stereotypical arab country,
you know, with camels and shit, it still has some things
to offer.

if you got time, that is.

and that, is precisely what i have. in small increments.

i'd hope to be here again in April. maybe go to Naif
Road. or the beach.

Goodbye, modern Dubayy.

fast-forward six hours, i'm 15 minutes away from
touchdown at KLIA. the dawn is fantastic.

i've always been a fan of clouds.

it was raining, though.

it was the most beautiful precipitation in the world.

as the bird landed, the door opened, and everybody
got out, i could taste the humidity in the terminal.

yeah. i got out, took my bags. and i realised as i was
turning on my phone, the sim card was not there.

it turned out i lost it.

so i got some coins to call azman bidin. it was exactly
one day before gxfc.

he was in Kedah. and so's all of my housemates.

the joke's on me.

i bought a taxi ticket for 75myr, which is murder,
and proceed to the exit.

as the sliding door opened, i could taste the hot air.

the carbon dioxide. the hot car exhaust.

ahh.

sweet, sweet, pungent,nostril-stinging pollution.

hi.