Toilet seats - the clean version

One of the joys of Abu Dhabi is that shops selling similar goods tend to be located in the same area of town. There is a cloth and tailoring area, a computer area and even a florescent shop lighting area. As the smaller shops disappear due to the buildings being knocked down this will change unfortunately.

The shops selling plumbing, electrical and tools are along Najda (Um El Nar Street). The only other place that sells this sort of stuff is called Ace (One store, many lifestyles). The shops along Najda sell as cheap as possible, with questionable quality and often fake parts, there are no fixed prices, and they will look at your racial type and charge accordingly. Ace is an American company and sells branded goods at European prices, and specialises in camping equipment for people (you know who you are) that like sand in their beds.

When one of the toilet seats in my apartment broke I needed to get a replacement. The one that was there had already been replaced at some time and was undersized. I knew what size it should be as the other loo was still on the original seat. It would have been pointless talking to the maintenance people for the building. Not only do they not speak English but they would have cobbled something together from the broken seat and said it was ‘fixed’.

I went down to Ace to get one from there, as I was sure I had them there some months ago. After looking around the entire store I was forced to ask the only assistant in the shop if they had seats. He looked at me as if I was mad and stated they stopped stocking them a few months ago. No point in asking why. It just is and there is often no logic in what or why.

Steeling myself I headed down to the DIY Souk. After the first couple of shops I realised I was on a hiding to nothing (aka was not getting anywhere). They would produce the same small and thin seat, look at me, and ask for 40 dirhams. I asked for a toilet seat of the right size in a third shop and they said they would look into it (Carry On at your Convenience moment there). They took my name and number and arranged to phone me back. They never do. You know they won’t and so do they but numbers must be exchanged and promises made.

I did what every good Englishman does, gave up, and went to the bar. A brainwave followed. Phoned Mrs. Dabbler and gave her the dimensions. A short trip to B&Q later, problem solved, seat packed in the luggage waiting to come to the UAE. Shame she wasn’t stopped at the airport, would have liked to see the Customs mans faces.

Now I have a wonderful warm wooden work of art from DIY.com. But I’ll still loose the deposit on the flat when I move!!

Back to (ab)normal

Mrs Dabbler was here for the last 2 weeks. After fetching, carrying, shopping and otherwise spending money, I am back to being on my own again.

A variation on a theme.

You know you have been in the UAE too long when:

* You think the best time to cross the street is at midnight, dressed completely in black, holding hands with your entire family.

* You no longer wait in line but go immediately to the front of the queue,
which can sometimes be one deep and three thousand wide.

* You stop at the bottom of an escalator to plan your day.

* It becomes exciting to see if you can get onto a lift before anyone can
try to get out.

* It is no longer surprising that the only minute made at a meeting is the
time and place for the next meeting.

* You rank the decision-making abilities of your staff by how long it takes them to reply 'Up to you!'

* You no longer wonder how someone who earns 2000 Dhs per month can drive a brand new Mercedes.

* Your Mercedes has leather upholstery but you still keep the plastic covers the car was delivered with on.

* You accept the fact that you must queue to get a number for the next
queue.

* You accept without question the mechanic's analysis that the car is
'broken' and will cost 'a lot' of money to get it 'fixed'.

* You find that it saves time to stand and retrieve your hand luggage from
the overhead lockers whilst the plane is making it's final landing
approach.

* A T-bone steak with rice sounds just fine.

* You believe everything you read in the newspapers.

* You regard traffic signals, stop signs and fake watch peddlers with equal
disdain.

* When listening to the pilot prove he cannot speak English you no longer
wonder if he can understand the air traffic controller.

* You regard it as part of the adventure, when the waiter repeats your
order exactly but the cook makes something completely different.

* You have more knickknacks than your grandmother.

* You are no longer surprised when three men with a ladder arrive to change
a light bulb.

* You understand all the above