Sea, sand and suffering

We dig, dig, dig, dig,
Dig, dig, dig.
The car is mired up to
The axles, so we
Dig, dig, dig,
It’s what we like to do.




In keeping with Dubai’s famous ability in the departments of Firsts, Forward Planning and Fcukwittedness, the Dubai Boat Show car park was in a sand pit just past Mina Seyahi. Road works require that all traffic into Jumeira Beach Residence and Dubai Marina goes down to one lane. After sitting in the queue for twenty minutes, Beloved Wife and her Goat had rather tired of posing with the roof off the Eos, and finally turned off out of the queue and into the car park. Car park attendants directed us towards the ‘free water taxi to the boat show’ and we spent a further ten minutes trailing around a completely full car park back to the main entrance.

One attendant asked me if I was wanting parking. “No, I want an ice cream. That’s why I’m sitting in my car in a car park.”

We were then directed to the half-empty overflow car park. I turned off the hard-packed aisle, and the front wheels of the Eos dropped into the soft sand. I couldn’t reverse out because of White Van Man stuck across my stern. Of course, I’ve got a full load of recovery kit parked in Mirdif in the Crumbling Villa. This is of limited use. We pushed, we pulled, we dug. In my fury I asked the car-park attendant what sort of imbecile directs two-wheel-drive vehicles on to soft sand. All I got was an impertinent grin and a rapid exit. Presumably the sort of imbecile who doesn’t fancy a diet of hospital food. It was then that I noticed that rather a lot of two-wheel drives were not so much parked as dumped. The whole car park resembled an elephant’s graveyard of expensive German machinery.

Beloved Wife went off to do her Damsel In Distress. Lots of people in 4x4s were willing to help, but didn’t have any tow ropes. :sigh:

A couple of years ago, the shuttle buses ran from the American University of Dubai car park. Oooh, asphalt! This year, the triumphant idea of using water taxis apparently trumped any and all suggestions that this might not be the best idea since sliced bread.

Eventually, after my extremely ugly temper tantrum had subsided, I asked a couple in a Hummer H2 for assistance. Meanwhile a kind Indian gentlemen had managed to scavenge a few metres of horrible polypropylene rope. The removable tow-hook on a Volkswagen Eos screws into the front bumper with a Left-Hand Thread for some unfathomable reason. A couple of tugs and broken ropes later, the ‘tow rope’ ended up stuck to the Hummer with a Gordian knot.

Anyway, with the car out after three quarters of an hour of trying, and copious thanks expressed, we parked on a hard bit. There was no way out except over the soft stuff. So no way out at all, then, until the car park emptied.

We got half an hour in the Boat Show and Diving Middle East Exhibition (DMEX) before it was chucking-out time. We’re going back again tonight, only this time taking the Goatmobile.

Going back to the subject of expensive machinery, I have fallen in lust with a Princess.

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