Goodbai to Dubai… Finally…!!

Lady luck is a fickle mistress…!!

In recent days she has turned her (broad !!) back completely, and on occasion presented me with a cold shoulder at best…!!

First, my laptop decided that after 55 000 kms of shake, rattle and roll, it had had enough, and began taking unexplained “breaks”, leaving me with a blank screen, and the air around me turning blue…!!

I found a guy who claimed to know everything there was to know about computers, and he promised to sort my problems out…

Three days later, I collected the laptop, and a few hours after that discovered that the processor was still “acting the goat”, and remained firmly in control of when it wanted to work, and when it wanted to shut down… I hope the darn thing will last until I get to Singapore, where I will probably replace it with a model that is keener to obey instructions…

Super Express Cargo... Great service from Eldho and his team...!!

Clearing the bike through Emirate Customs has also been fraught with a few nail-biting and teeth gnashing episodes…!!

Just when I believed we had cleared the last remaining hurdle, a call came through from Eldho of Super Express Cargo Services, to inform me that without a fully comprehensive Insurance Policy, that cost a mere $260.00, the Big Fella would remain a guest at the customs warehouse of Dubai International Airport…

“Why don’t I just sent my wallet and credit card over to the airport, and let them call us when they’ve emptied it…!!” I suggested…

“No…no…!! This is the last, I assure you…!!” Eldho replied…

The service and assistance offered by Eldho and his team has been top drawer, but as we all know, Customs around the world can be a law unto themselves, and it would seem that the boys here in Dubai take enormous pride in keeping up that reputation…

Once all the “ransom monies” had changed hands, the crate containing my bike was finally released and delivered to Eldho’s warehouse… I discovered that all the contents of the crate been thoroughly “inspected”…

“Inspection” in this case seemed to involve the breaking of zips on my bags, the scratching of my helmet, and the removal of the bar-bag that had been fastened to the handlebars…

But there was worse to come…

"Say you're sorry...!! I've been touched, fondled, and fiddled with...!! Oh..., and there was the little matter of a small fire...!!"

I had stupidly left my keys in the ignition when we had crated the Big Fella in Amman… There had been a general rush to get the bike packed in time for delivery to the airport…

Why we rushed is beyond me, as the bike left Amman seven days later…!!

Somebody at the Customs warehouse in Dubai had noticed the keys dangling enticingly in the ignition, and had decided to start the bike in its crate…

The duffel bag that contained my riding kit was jammed up against the exhaust manifold pipe, and with the engine running, “one thing led to another”, as they say in the classics…

In this particular case, heat led to fire…!!

Could have been worse, I suppose...

A large hole was burnt through the duffel bag, and from there, through the collar of my Rally-Pro jacket…!!

On sighting this, needless to say, I took a short walk outside the warehouse to practice my swearing out of earshot of the many religiously inclined labourers who were gathered around the Big Fella…

To be fair, I was more annoyed with myself for leaving my keys in the ignition than I was at the idiot who had started the bike, although I would have liked to have a few words with him… But better he remain anonymous, and that way, I stay out of jail…!!

Re-assembling the front wheel, the brakes and windscreen went off without a hitch… Well there were no “spare parts” left at the end, so I assume I did everything correctly…!!

The guys in the warehouse were all very eager to help, and were excited as I was at the prospect of seeing my bike in one piece again…

The "Super" guys helped me put everything together at their warehouse... Thanks guys, see you again in a few weeks...!!

The Florida Hotel, where I have been made to feel at home...!!

The best street food in my area... The waiters have taken to calling me "Bruzzer"...!!

After repacking all my kit, I changed into my riding gear, feeling very self-conscious with the large hole in my collar, and went off in search of a filling station…

Petrol here costs only R3.10 / litre, which went some way to improving my mood…

Gi-Gi performed impeccably, and within 15 minutes I was parked outside the Florida Hotel…

Cars and taxis had seemed to give me a wide berth, and many drivers pulled up next to me to gawk at both man and machine… I believe I am correct in saying that not too many Trans-World riders come through Dubai…!!

I had hoped to get away the very next morning, but now had to get my jacket and duffel bag repaired and for that, I would need a tailor…again…!! First Cyprus, then Syria and now Dubai…!!

The manager of the Florida hotel arranged for one of the staff to guide me to a tailor in a little back-street just a few hundred metres away… Anzer has helped me contact embassies, given me directions to wherever I needed to go, and made sure I was always as comfortable as possible…

Proud manager of the Florida Hotel, Anzer Abdul, who has been extremely helpful during my stay ....

I looked into the tiny workshop, no bigger than a large cupboard, and was just about to turn and walk away, when my jacket was snatched out of my hands, and with a loud clicking of the tongue to indicate sympathy with the damage he was looking at, the “tailor” said,

“I fix, no miskhalla…!!”

He pulled a plastic chair from inside the workshop, placed it outside his door, and urged me to sit… The “waiting room” took up half of the little alleyway but nobody seemed to mind, as pedestrians surged around me…

I held the duffel bag out to him, showing him the broken zip…

“And this…?”

“I fix all, no problem…!!” he assured me…

Mustafa the tailor, operates out of a hole in the wall... No place for a work table, so the floor has to do...!!

Even though he urged me to wait, while he affected the repairs, I felt it would be better to leave him to his own devices and return later to see the results…

He sat down in the doorway, and began picking at the stitching of the old zipper…

Looking at the rickety sewing machine that lay on the floor at his feet, I couldn’t help but ask him where the other one was…

“No other one… Just this one…!! Why you ask…?”

“Well, I seemed to recall that Noah took two of everything into the ark, so there has to be another one of these somewhere around here…!!”

The NA 101 model does not inspire confidence...!! NA in this case refers to Noah's Ark...!!

Naturally, my quip was neither understood nor appreciated, and I changed tack quickly, starting negotiations on the cost of the repairs…

“How much…??” I asked…

“Maybe two hours…!!” came the reply, his eyes darting all over the place as he began his mental calculations…

“Very funny, my fine friend…!!” I said, recognizing that he was buying time… “Before you continue, we need to agree on a price…”

If anything, his hands moved even more quickly, unraveling the stitching at an alarming speed…

I laid a hand on his arm, stopping him, and then with a stern glance I said, “Price first, then fix…!!”

He raised his head to look up at me, as I crouched down next to him…

“You pay whatever you want…!!”

“Ah…!! Ok then… Seeing as one of your brethren caused this damage, and as a Muslim you are honour-bound to help a traveler in need, I will pay you with a smile and a handshake, and wish all the blessings of the Prophet upon you…!!”

This was apparently a price far below that which he had been hoping for, and we quickly got down to the nitty-gritty of our discussions, eventually agreeing on a price of 75 Dirham’s, (about R135) with a promise that he would do a “very nice job”…

I spent an hour strolling through the by now, very familiar streets and alleyways in the area, before returning to “Mustafa’s Tailoring Emporium”…

Not a bad result...!!

My concern about the condition of his sewing machine, which he operated with his right foot while he guided the duffel bag under the head, were put to rest when I saw the great job he had done on my jacket…

The hole had been hidden with a patch of Gortex material very similar in colour to that of the jacket, and I breathed a sigh of relief, while he sported a massive grin…

“You see…!! You see…!! I do good job, yes…??”

“Yes, my friend… You will receive an honourable mention in my dispatches…!!”

I handed the money over and went back to my hotel to prepare for my ride the next day…

The last week has slid by almost unnoticed… I have read two books, enjoyed hours of uninterrupted sleep, and walked myself silly…

I have also pored over my maps and made adjustments to take into consideration the time lost while the bike gets shipped…Huge changes on the way, including the possibility of working my way “up” through the Americas, instead of “down”…

I now know that to be safe, I will need to allow for two weeks “downtime” each time I put the Big Fella into the air, and this will happen often in the next few months… Not a prospect I am looking forward to…!!

I have also learned not to leave my keys in the ignition… (Just in case you were wondering…!!)

I am finally ready to leave Dubai…

"I would have liked to see some of Dubai, but he has me in the dark again...!!"

©GBWT 2010