Archives for October 2008
Burj: Bonkers
From one extreme of Middle Eastern madness to the other. The Burj Dubai is likely to become one of the world’s iconic buildings, and is already its highest at almost 700 metres with at least another 100 metres to go. Up close it doesn’t seem that dominating, the perspective accentuated by the tapering tower. But seen from a distance, 20km or more out from the city, it stands proud like the Tower of Mordor. Standing in the bathroom and looking out through the floor to ceiling windows of my executive suite I was struck by the, well, stupidity of Dubai as I took a power shower on the 27th floor of a hotel built in the desert. An interesting article about Bill Baker, the Burj’s structural engineer here.
It’s hard to see in this shot, but this is a nice illustration of the city’s contrasts with the distant Burj visible beyond a series of wooden ships under construction, and a row boat powering past.
(I’m guessing this photo has reached Flickr – the UAE’s firewall prevents access to such a shocking site.)
Beirut: Bonkers
Hello again. A day off in Jordan means an opportunity to sort through a virtual stack of photos and update you on some of my recent travels. Bear with me.
The panorama from the balcony of the Beirut Intercontinental Phoenicia* sums up, on the surface at least, this dichotimous city. In one shot we can see both great riches and the debris of war; the view from my bedroom window was only of war.
I’ve not spent long enough in Lebanon to even begin to get a grip on its identity save to say that, as we normally find, there is a good deal of truth in the stereotypes. Getting into a cruddy taxi on my first trip from the airport, windows down as we roared through the plethora of underpasses and around unsigned motorways, it felt the closest I’ve been to a real life Grand Theft Auto (not the bit that Hillary Clinton ‘didn’t like’). There seemed to be no respect for the rules of the road, cars were jumping red lights and cutting across lanes, music blared from the car radio and we passed two or three tanks – tanks! – on street corners. Another was stationed just up from our hotel. There’s Middle East driving, which I’m used to… and then there’s Lebanese driving.
The women are beautiful, which is to say it’s easier to judge their beauty given that most dress in a Western manner. The driving and the drinking suggest the Lebanese really do live as if they may die tomorrow and are happy to flaunt this fact. Indeed, the highest bill at one of its flashiest bars is publised in the next day’s newspaper. The infrastructure’s in a dire state of repair, with every building relying on back-up generators and internet connections hacked into datalines around the world, with Google thinking our focus group location is in the Netherlands, not the Levant. The whole place is nuts. It’s running on fumes as the fuel evaporates.
Listening to Beirut youth talking about their lives it quickly becomes clear that they are accutely politically aware. They view everything in life through a prism of religion, sect and neighbourhood leading to an over-riding disgruntlement with their political leaders. If Egypt is a timebomb with a slow fuse that’s about to combust, then Lebanon is a cluster bomb that’s already embedding shrapnel deep into its citizens. It still bears the scars of distant and recent civil unrest, indeed until recently the crater of President Hariri’s assasination remained unfilled whilst the surrounding buildings have not been touched since the explosion. Instead the road has been reopened and the Lebanese drive daily through the wounds of their continual conflict.
Yet Beirut is set between the Mediterranean Sea and beautiful mountains with reliable skiing for three months of the year. It’s a city with so much potential, if only its leaders could find a way to accomplish peace between its different ethnic groups, hold Syria and Israel at bay, and bring new polish to the city.
This week will be my last visit to the city for some time, as I’m being sent to more sober, conservative places. I must get out and see some of the fabled night life. And we should all hope that its leaders act maturely and bring stability to this remarkable little country.
*Since you ask – overpriced, small-roomed, insulting service. I’ve yet to find a tolerable, smoke free Lebanese hotel. But if that’s the worst thing in life then things aren’t that bad…
When the seat belt sign is extinguished…
…this is why you should keep your seat belts fastened. There’s a full gallery of images here (the toilet seat looks very uncomfortable) and background plus an eminently sensible commentary by Kieran Daly here.
Let this be a lesson to you. Note that the aircraft dipped its nose 8.4 degrees for a couple of moments and then recovered, to be follow by a shallow descent a few seconds later. That’s it. No plunge. And look at the damage it caused. Without wishing to worry you, it seems to have been a (clearly, rare) computer malfunction.
Whilst we’re looking at flying blogs – something I take care to avoid here – one of the best written and most engaging, if you have the slightest interest in what’s happening up front, is Flight Level 390. It’s one of the few blogs I’m excited to see updated, and I urge you to subscribe immediately.
Born anonymous
Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up is a short, entertaining, revealing autobiographical study on his rise to standup comedy fame and why he left it all behind. Yet it raises an important question: where are the stories of the people who aren’t famous? Not just the notables – favourite recent obituaries include the inventor of the roundabout and an aviatrix who raced into her 80s – but those who tried and failed, and those who didn’t even try?
We read only of those who are successful in their chosen field, generally the driven types who achieve recognition for their achievements. What about the men and women who are successful on their own terms, or nearly made it but didn’t, or who never had a hope? A biography of a Blair, a Campbell, a Freud or a Martin serves only to highlight the failures of others in a society where success is judged on celebrity and material wealth. We need books about ordinary lives, and lives less ordinary but also less visible. Most people have had extraordinary moments that punctuate months or years of not a lot. We should be judging ourselves against our peers, not our heroes.
[For the record - this is not necessarily a reflection of my current state of mind. And nor is this occasional blog a solution to this problem...]
A Santa Barbarian Message
On the road in California, poster activism in this resolutely middle class enclave. Question: when did America become a class-ridden society?
Sign of the Times (Past)
On the shelves of Borders, Clinton’s on discount; McCain and Obama both still at $9.99. Your price may vary.
