They may take away entire streets, but they keep the roadsigns!
Outside it’s sunny, warm and inviting. At home, I would not be able to keep myself indoors. I would find something to do – go for a run, work in the garden, even walk to the shops. Here the sun shining usually means you must stay indoors, as I discovered last Saturday. For a third week, I set off early (7.45am), armed with camera. The weather forecast on BBC World said it would peak at 43 degrees; two less than over the past few days I thought to myself and I had gone out last night. By 9.15am, the water in my bottle was warm and disgusting but was I ever glad I had it. Had wandered off the Corniche through waste land, which still amazingly has street signs at its corners, in search of a decent angle on one of the water towers for a photograph. It was as quiet as it ever gets here and I got a chance to see how they plant trees – huge holes, with banks build up around them, so every tree looks as if it has its own private little moat.
With 12 more sky scrapers planned for around the Corniche, I don’t know how long they will last, but I certainly learned something. On the way, saw one lad carrying a large plastic bag packed full of dates; I’m not the only one who scavenged for them I thought. Then I noticed another shinnying up a tree armed with another bag. That’s the way to do it! I had wondered where all the dates from the ‘public’ trees would end up.
Also had the great delight of seeing not one but two entire apartment blocks being demolished. Since any mention of a wrecking ball gets my pulse racing (every since seeing a scene in a TV series where an angry drunk gets hold of a wrecking ball and proceeds to demolish half his town), I had been intrigued by the manner in which entire streets could disappear in a week here. As you can see from the photo already published below, it is left to one poor lad and a digger. I don’t think that would work on the Dublin City Council “Bunkers”, a pair of buildings I dream about seeing demolished.
By now I found myself facing the side of the British embassy (with wire on its outside wall to keep intruders out; haven’t seen that here before), so knew I had strayed off my normal path. Still, this is a small town, so I knew a left turn would get me back on track.
Found myself at the roundabout that, like the street before it, is being demolished. So knew I was about twenty minutes from home. By now I was suffering. I started counting to a hundred to distract myself.
Fortunately, there was a breeze to keep me cool; the wind is currently whistling (literally) around this building; between the hum of the AC which, if I wake up suddenly, I think is a plane preparing to take off, the fans in the kitchen and bathroom and of course the fridge, this is not a quiet place.
Finally I got home, stripped off everything and had a shower. What happens here is that you don’t sweat that much while you’re outside, but the minute you come indoors, the internal fountain starts and your clothes will be soaked through unless you GET THEM OFF!
No such thing as a cold shower either because the water is kept in big containers outside in the blazing sun. So strangely, if you want a little blast of cold, you turn on the hot tap. Or stand in front of the fridge and open the door.
One good thing about a temperature that never goes below 30 degrees is that if you make a cup of tea (as I did 15 minutes ago and forget about it (as I have just remembered), it is still warm. Also you can wash a sheet or a nightie and have it dry in half an hour.
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