Doha, Qatar

My trip to India included a 24-hour layover in Doha, Qatar. Ever since I found out that on the first night of Ramadan, 600 Qataris were hospitalized as a result of overeating, it’s been a place close to my heart. Excess, pride and wealth, are words that are often used when describing Qatar, now the third most obese nation in the world (after the U.S. and my beautiful U.K.).

Flying business, they put me up in a giant suite in the Movenpick – the biggest hotel room I have ever seen, and on arrival from Tunis I had a super sleep with some lovely dreams before hitting the mean streets of Qatar before my evening flight to Mumbai.

I was on working hours, so I had to check in and send a couple of emails every now and then so that no-one would get too suspicious, so the Museum of Islamic Art with its free Wi-Fi was a natural and appealing choice. I rocked up in the appalling heat (it was so unbearably hot, I can’t believe that humans actually live there). I was wearing a new dress from my “made in Tunisia” collection – High Carbon Lifestyle, Low Carbon Wardrobe, and was feeling pretty lovely.

At the front desk, the man was all smiles, “Welcome to the Museum of Islamic Art, here is your map and here is a guide and we have a special exhibition at the moment of gold swords and these can be found on the third floor and by the way, do you have a shawl for your legs?”

“A what?”

“Sorry madam, but you need to cover your legs…”

“Oh, I don’t have anything…”

“Here you are,” And he hands me a nasty-arse skirt to cover up my infidel legs and my pretty dress that was actually made by a Muslim. I scurried to the bathroom to put it on before causing any more offense. (see how I complain about sexism but use blue and pink to denote boy and girl voices...)

 

But the museum was super, it was free and it was very interesting and informative without being too boring. The had some really nice stuff on typesetting and calligraphy, a huge collection of handwritten Korans. Of course, the sword collection was there too, but I would have like to touch them (just an idea for the future Mr Museum of Islamic Art Man) and feel the weight. I was also delighted to bump into my brother there:

 

There was a jewelry collection there too, and I picked out my Christmas present. I have been really good this year, and so a quick word with Father Christmas, and this should be in the bag. It was gold and diamonds and emeralds. I'm sure it was worth enough to feed a small country

... caviar. I'm sure it was worth enough to feed a small country caviar.

I just took the little walk to the main road for the museum to pick up a taxi and it was the hottest walk ever. My skin was damp within seconds. Although I was expecting dry heat, it was really sweaty and humid. I took this picture, because as I was walking along, I couldn't believe that people had just discarded old dates as they ate and walked... then I looked up and realised I was walking beneath some date trees. They were much shorter and stumpier than in Tunisia.

I asked the taxi driver about the humidity and he said that it hadn't rained since last April. That's April 2012. That's insane, my friends.

Then I went to the souk, but everything was shut because there is a kind of siesta after lunch and everyone was napping. But it looked like an Aladdin town so I took a picture and had a milkshake with some Qataris, who told me how excited the country is to be hosting the World Cup and the Olympics.

Outside the souk was a parking lot:

 

Then I did some obligatory tax-free shopping, before taking a little nap of my own and heading back to the airport for the flight to India.

Thank you very much Qatar, it was a lovely day and a brilliant rest-stop for m journey... but I am certain beyond a doubt that I could never live there. Ever.