Maximisation!
In our Dubai days, some friends and I coined the term “weekend maximisation”. This meant squeezing as many fun activities as possible into each weekend. It was just for a bit of a laugh, but the more varied the activities and the more contorted the scheduling, the more kudos we won.
For example, during a weekend my mum was visiting, we got up early, drove four hours to Oman for a day of scuba-duba diving, continued on to Muscat to catch up with some dear friends, attended the annual Caledonian Ball, visited the Grand Mosque the next day, attended a matinee performance at the newly opened Muscat Opera House, and drove back to Dubai exhausted but satisfied!
Since I started my hotel design consultancy almost a year ago, I’ve replugged myself back into my professional network, which is unsurprisingly centred around Dubai. Travelling back from our “other life” in Malaysia to our “most-of-the-time base” in Devon, a few days stopover in Dubai was too good an opportunity to miss. It mirrors a week I spent there on my way over to Malaysia several months prior, where I attended a conference and caught up with some contacts.
It was a little strange being back in a city that we’d called home for so long – I lived there for fourteen years, Helen twenty. We agree that we left at the right time – we were finding the bright lights, glitz and glamour a little less appealing and were craving something more authentic. I don’t think that anyone would disagree with calling Dubai shallow, fake even. And it’s easy to get sucked into the hype. I even got reprimanded by one of my line managers, because my dusty, lifted Mitsubishi Pajero (Shogun) wasn’t a suitable vehicle for my senior corporate position!
And the traffic. My goodness. I don’t know how we endured it. Actually, I do. It became so much, we moved across town to live closer to our workplaces. Before then, my commute was 50km each way – which sounds like a huge distance, but with the efficient highways was only a 30 minute trip in the traffic-free early mornings. But a grinding hour of stress to get home at the other end of the day.
Our new Devon base is the complete opposite – it’s easier to embrace a more authentic, friendly and lower stress approach to life.
During our Dubai days, thanks to KLM, Hamsterdam served as a great hub to transit onward to other interesting places. It featured as a stopover on trips to my first marathon in Reykjavik, Helen’s first half marathon in Havana, and an amazing holiday in Ecuador and Galapagos. Back in those days, we’d maximise a long lay over with a trip into the city – it seems quite exotic, stopping off for a waffle breakfast and a canal tour on the way to Havana or similar.
By a happy coincidence, with KLM serving our local airport Bristol, it now serves as a useful hub to the many places we can connect thru Hamsterdam too. The added bonus is that we can usually fit in a quick stopover in the Netherlands, the ideal opportunity to catch up with our middle child. Well, now in his late twenties, not quite a child.
Returning home, I opted for the nine hour transit- giving me ample time to leave the airport, take the train to Rotterdam, have a good catch up with Alex, before returning and catching my connection to Bristol. We chose Rotterdam more for the ease connections – it’s a nice enough place, but I find myself putting people over places more and more.
This “maximisation” contrasts sharply to when I was a kid – overseas family holidays were an annual affair at most, and my family would allow what seemed like the best part of a day just to get to the airport, checking in four hours early! In our “flying clothes” no doubt!
Since I’ve been back, I also managed a trip up to London. Not a stop over, but it seems to tie in with the theme of this blog.
Despite being just a three-hour train ride away, it was my first visit to London in about five years. I thought I might feel a little melancholy – most of the time I’ve spent there has been with mum, who lived there more or less 50% of each year since she retired. I did a rough calculation and figured I’ve visited London at least 40, maybe 50 times. It seems like a lot, considering I’ve never lived there. I’ve had a couple of employers who never seemed to get suspicious that if I had to travel to London for a meeting, I was only ever available on a day adjacent to a weekend, with my travel to or from London at the opposite end of the weekend.
It’s no surprise that Brits love whinging, and the trains seem to be the second most popular target. Yes, they can be on the pricey side if you travel at peak times, but it amazes me that I can catch a direct train from our little seaside town to London, Manchester, Birmingham or Cardiff and beyond.
It was great being back in the big smoke for a few days – it has the creative energy and multicultural vibe that is not exactly abundant in South Devon!
I even found some time to visit the place dad used to work when my parents lived there many years ago. By chance, I also happened to arrive at the same station as he did – Charing Cross – so I got to trace the daily route he would have taken over fifty years ago – across Trafalgar square, past the houses of parliament, past the Churchill (and Ghandi) statues…
My dad’s old workplace.
My childhood was filled with stories of their time there. They lived in a caravan (first-generation van lifers?) and drove a Land Rover. When they were done with their “Big OE”, they drove the Landy from London to Calcutta (Kolkata) and then shipped it to NZ.
As I rode the excellent Great Western train back home, my departing opinion is the same though – I love the buzz of both London and Dubai, I’m happy to visit, but I’m quietly pleased to now live a quieter, more authentic life.
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