On Wednesday night after my Verona and other Northern Italy treats I had started to get a sore throat. By the time I was going to bed it was feeling like razor blades and Claudia gave me a medicated lolly which helped. I was already dreading my Thursday as I was leaving Italy, nay Europe, for Dubai. But because I had changed my arrangements after booking flights; to get to my flight in Venice, I had to catch a train from Bergamo to Briesca, change trains and get to Venice, get on the transfer bus to get to the Venice Airport, all whilst lugging 20 kgs of luggage. An extra early start was also required as I booked the trains with plenty of time to spare just in case of train delays.
Claudia and Sabrina dropped me off, and Sabrina stayed with me to help me with my luggage, until my train arrived. We said our goodbyes and Sabrina said we shouldn't cry as we would see each other again. The trip was uneventful (I think I wrote Wednesday's blog on that leg). And when I got to Briesca, I had enough time to go to the ticket office and see if I could catch the earlier train. (I had booked the early train from Bergamo in case there wasn't enough time to change trains/platforms.) I wasn't feeling great, but I wasn't yet really sick, but I could feel it creeping up on me.
Waiting for the train to Venice, I noted that I was going to be in Carriage nine, so I walked to the end of the platform that I thought nine would be at. Except I was wrong. But in my defence if you're facing the train, and you know the train is heading left of you, then you would think carriage one would be at the front (left), and carriage nine would be at or near the end (right). Right? Apparently not. So of course when the train got there I had to run past about seven carriages to get to mine. Sigh.
Nearing Venice, the train stopped at Venice Mestra. I checked my ticket and it said I needed Venice Santa Lucia. I suddenly wondered whether Mestra was closer to the airport, but I tried to remember when I booked the ticket whether I had explained that I was going to the airport and I was fairly certain I had, so I figured Santa Lucia was correct. When I got off at Venice Santa Lucia, I went and had an espresso and a final cornetto (he gave me one with jam instead of custard damn him), then went out to find the bus I would need to transfer me to the airport. When I stepped outside I was shocked and yet pleasantly surprised to find that I was actually on the Island of Venice. But with 20 kgs of luggage, there wasn't really a lot I was going to see. But it was enough to remind me how beautiful Venice is.
I couldn't see a sign or information (surprise surprise) for the bus, so I had to go to the tourist information desk, which had a long line up out the door. I was suddenly grateful I had gotten onto an earlier train. When I eventually reached the front, I was directed to the bus station. A five minute walk away (without luggage I presume). That meant lugging the luggage over a bridge. With STAIRS.
I got to the ticket office, lined up for a ticket, and got served by the ditziest Italian I think I've ever met. She was looking everywhere except where she should have been looking, i.e. at her customers! Seriously. After I eventually got a ticket off her, I had to KNOCK on the glass window separating us to ask her what platform I might find my bus on, and what number bus I needed. This woman is WHY there is a glass window separating the customers from the service officers, because if it wasn't there, I would have felt compelled to slap her a couple of times to make sure she was awake.
The bus to the airport left at midday and took about 40 minutes, but I'm fairly certain I glimpsed a sign somewhere half way to the airport saying 'Mestra'. Nevermind. At this stage I was just grateful for allowing plenty of time in the agenda, because you wouldn't want to cut a trip like this one too fine. Especially not in Italy.
On the plane I watched a couple of movies, and I think I may have even slept for 20 minutes. This was after I had moved seats - the crew had asked if I wouldn't mind as that would give the lady next to me with a toddler, two seats. No, no I don't mind at all. And where I got moved to had a vacant seat next to me anyway, so I was very pleased.
We got into Dubai at 11.30 ish from memory. At customs the guy asked me my name, and I said "Natalina", he, with a grin said "I know that". So I said, "I know you know that". I like a customs officer with a sense of humour. He was very sweet.
The drive to the Novotel 'Mall of the Emirates' took about 30 minutes, and the driver took the 'Abu Dhabi' road. I was starting to wonder where the hell my travel agent had booked this hotel (the only one booked by the travel agent, I did the rest of the accommodation myself). Anyway, we got there, I checked in and pretty much crashed immediately.
But it was a restless night, waking quite a few times, and when I woke Friday morning, I was completely zapped of energy, head-achy, tired and coughing. I then slept on and off until about 3.00 in the afternoon. I didn't think I was feverish, but my muscles and bones were really aching and I knew I just needed to get some panadol.
I showered and dressed and made my way downstairs and asked Reception for the nearest pharmacy. They said Mall of the Emirates which was one block away. I walked outside and the weirdest thing happened (that I now find completely hilarious, and cracks me up, every single time), my sunglasses fogged up. Yep. From the heat and humidity. Instantly.
Now you all know Dubai is hot right. Did you also know it boasts 98% humidity as well? Actually, I don't know if that's true, I'm just making that up, but it's probably true, and the hotels here could do us tourists a favour. They could just shower you with water the second you walk outside. That way your expectations are set. Because in minutes, you're going to look like a drowned rat anyway. You will literally sweat that much. I mean, the backs of my hands sweat (not just my palms), the front of my knees (not just the back of my knees) sweat. All of me. Sweat. No point doing your hair straight, it will literally curl in seconds.
Anyway, I've digressed, but on purpose. I just needed to set the scene a bit. So, I was feeling like shit and I had to walk a block away in 35 degree heat with 98% humidity. I was already feeling weak, and my bones and muscles were aching, but particularly my lower back. I was so sore, I felt as though I was walking at a snails pace, and I probably was.
When I got to the mall I was relieved to find ATMs near the entrance as I didn't have any Dirham yet. I tried one ATM and it gave me an error. I tried another ATM...that took for ages and then didn't disperse any cash either. By this stage I seriously didn't think I would actually be able to stand much longer. I was quite distressed. I lined up for a third ATM (thankfully there were six all in the one spot), and this one delivered.
I knew this mall wasn't going to be small, so I had to find an information desk to fast track me finding a pharmacy. And there was one nearby, and a lady directed me to the closest one. I had to go up to the next level, and I made my way there ok. When I got there, the pharmacist gave me panadol, cough medicine and I grabbed some strepsils. By the time I walked out of the shop though, I was ready to collapse, I didn't think my legs could carry me much further. I finally found a seat next to the 1st floor exist. I swallowed two panadol immediately. But it was too late. I sat for a while thinking that as soon as I felt better I could walk back to my hotel. Then a lady and her child came and sat next to me. I felt awful, really really weak. I just wanted to lay down. Then, all of a sudden I started to get pins and needles through my body, but it suddenly got really bad in my hands and arms. And by that I mean that it felt as though my hands and arms were vibrating. These were no ordinary pins and needles. I don't know if I started to sweat, but I was wiping my brow and trying to concentrate on breathing, for what reason, I'm not sure. Maybe to stay calm because whatever was happening to me, was scaring me. I have never ever had this feeling before. I couldn't stop looking at my hands, I felt like I was in a movie and an alien was going to burst through my body!
I clearly looked a sight. The lady next to me (dressed in traditional black dress with just her face showing) asked "are you sick?". I said yes, I told her what I was feeling and that I didn't know what was wrong with me, and that I thought I needed a doctor. She went and spoke to one of the traffic controllers outside (for a taxi), he came and asked me a few questions and I said I needed a taxi to go to the American hospital. He told me where I could get a taxi from, but I didn't have the strength to go to the other side of the mall and I said I would sit here until I felt better as I had just taken some panadol. He said then, as soon as another taxi came to this entrance he would come and get me, but that it could take 20 minutes. So we left it at that.
Then the lady's husband came by and she got up and said goodbye to me. I could see them then talking about me, but about two minutes later, the whole family came back and the husband asked me whether he could take me anywhere. We spoke for a while, he seemed in disbelief that I was completely alone, but finally accepted the fact when I said I had been travelling and Dubai was a stopover before going home. I convinced him I would wait for the taxi and go to the hospital. But by this time, I was actually in tears, however I mustered up enough courage to give him smile to assure him I would be ok. This seemed to do the trick and he smiled back said goodbye, I said thank you a few times, reassured them again and then they left.
After a few more minutes, the 'pins and needles' started to ease off, to my great relief. I figured the panadol was kicking in. Then the traffic guy came back with another guy who suggested they would get the paramedics to come have a look at me. I convinced them that I thought I was feeling better now, and that the panadol had started to work, and there would be no need. Again they required convincing, but accepted my explanation. After about 10 minutes they signalled that they had a taxi available. I walked into the heavy heat of the car park and apologised to the driver that it was only a short trip to the Novotel (I decided I was going to go back to the hotel), but that I was too weak to walk there. As we drove out of the carpark, he asked me to confirm the direction, and I just said yes although I didn't realise what I was saying yes to until a few minutes later. And the road he got on was a highway going in a particular direction, and he couldn't turn back. I could see my hotel so I just told him I would walk. I paid him 10 dirham (for getting me out of the Mall car park) and walked back.
By the time I walked back I was feeling considerably better, and in actual fact hungry! There was a cafe across from my hotel so I decided to get something from there. By now it was probably around 5.00 and I hadn't eaten a thing, and barely sipped some water all day. First, I ordered an espresso! And a Chicken Focaccia and a coke. I only ate half (although it was delicious), and by oh boy did the coffee then coke go down well!
I went back to the hotel figuring I should rest which I did, but not long after, I had improved so much, that I thought I would actually go back to the Mall of the Emirates and have a look around! And I did!
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And that brings us to today! It's late now, so I'm going to keep this short. When I woke up at 7.00 this morning I realised I had had a good night's sleep which brought a smile to my face. So given that I had lost a whole day yesterday, I needed to get cracking! I got up, showered, and went down for breakfast. All the while, disbelieving how bad a state I was in yesterday and, today, yeah, still a bit sore (sore back), and still a bit of a cough, but otherwise feeling not too bad.
After breakfast I organised a safari trip for tomorrow night, and then headed back to the mall where I would get on the 'hop on, hop off' bus. Definitely the best way to see everything in a short amount of time.
My first stop was the Cloth Souk. A couple of the vendors picked up that I am Italian and started calling me Maria, asking me to go into their shop. I found this very amusing. Then I stopped at the Gold Souk and bought myself a little something. We'll see if I got a good price when I get back home! Then I stopped at the Spice Souk but didn't buy anything for fear of customs confiscation on entry back into Australia.
We drove past a whole lot of interesting sights including the Burj Al Arab, but I was most thrilled to be on 'The Palm' (the man made islands), what an architectural feat! But talking about architecture, the high rises of Dubai. My oh my... reminiscent of New York! Impressive. Of course, most impressive though is the Burj Khalifa. My plan was to have afternoon tea in the Burj Khalifa, but given I have lost a day, I don't know if I'll have the time.
I made my last stop the Dubai Mall, which is linked to the Burj Khalifa. An incredible shopping mall. So elaborate, and ornate. But classy at the same time. Chic in fact. I headed to the 'shoe level', but didn't buy a thing. Two reasons. Most of the shoes I liked had heels to high, and if the heel wasn't high, then the price was.
I grabbed a bite to eat, then headed to see the Dubai Fountain which I understand is based on the Fountains at Vegas. Very impressive, but whilst I did see the sign that said you could be sprayed with water, I really didn't care that much. Because a) it was still stinking hot, and b) I already looked like a drowned rat.
However, whilst I thoroughly enjoyed the two shows I watched, and I didn't care that I got (more) wet, I think my camera maybe wasn't so happy about getting wet. So whilst I have written war and peace, and you've stuck with me to the end, I'm afraid I can't show you a single photo. I'm getting a communication error trying to get the photos onto my ipad!
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