The driving licence saga continues

I had planned to write about the experience of driving in the UAE, but, after today, that will have to wait for another time. Those who have been following my antics (is anybody reading this? Please leave comments) will know that I've been having problems getting a driving licence - a combination of visa and colour blindness difficulties.

But first, a note about the weekend. On Thursday (the new Friday of course) we had our first night out without kids thanks to the wonderful maid Sriyanie. I took Janet to a restaurant the Dubai Explorer described as 'fit for a king'. It was smart but the food was absolute rubbish.

On Friday afternoon we went to the Jumeirah Beach Park - a public park with a small admission charge and reasonable facilities. It was busy, but not packed. The sand is lovely (although Max hates it with a vengenance and was only happy when on the sunbed or in the sea), the weather a sunny 38 degrees, a slight breeze and the water is clear and warm. There is a slight fly in the ointment. Hoardes of men (mostly Indian and Pakistani I think) dressed as if they have just come off the street, walk up and down the shore staring at women as if they had never seen a woman, never mind one in a bikini.

Anyway, today started off well enough. Today is the second day of Ramadan and the roads were quieter than usual getting in to work. I saw the curious sight of a group of camels at the Nad Al Sheba racecourse out doing early morning 'gallops' which put me in a good mood.

I called Ayesha to see what progress she had made with my driving licence. Precisely none. The upshot was that I was going to have to go and do it all myself. I drove over to see her and collected all the documentation. She gave me hopeless directions so I decided to get a cab.

I had a terrible feeling of deja vu as I entered the building. The man on reception gave me a form. I asked if I could have a pen. 'No - go there', he said, pointing at a wall. After a few minutes walking all over the building I went back and then he said 'go typing'. I should have guessed of course and went off to find the typing pool and stump up yet another typing fee. The 'typist' was an incredibly rude local (who hand wrote the form) who was shouting loudly at the poor Indian in front of me. At least you don't get treated like dirt when you have a white face in this country and he completed the form without incident.

Back to Reception. 'You have eye test?' 'No - can I do it here?'. 'No, you go to Optician and come back'. OK, now I played my trump card. 'Can I speak to Major Yousuf Logani' I asked, as directed by Ayesha. [BTW, Janet has just walked in and said this is incredibly boring. It may well be, but that's just how it is.Feel free to stop reading if you're losing the will to live. After all lets face it, actually experiencing the whole thing took less time to complete than it does to read it!!!!!And you've got to keep reminding yourself that this whole thing is nothing more than a product of Mark's own making. If he'd gone through the proper channels in the first place instead of trying to cheat the system he would have had a driving licence by now, but it's far more atractive to try and beat them at their own game. I bet he'll edit this bit out! OK, Janet,I'll leave it in].

To cut a long story short, for Janet's benefit, they didn't know the Major and so I had to go and find an optician. I passed the test - she didn't bother with the colour bit, even though I had memorised the numbers, and ticked it as 'Fit'. I tried to call Janet to tell her but my phone had fallen out in the taxi. By now, he was in Traffic Hell, or Bur Dubai as they call it here, and he didn't get back until over an hour and a half later. By the time I'd got back to the Police Department they'd closed (shorter hours during Ramadan). I'll be back there again tomorrow morning for another dose...