So I am sitting here writing this from our lovely hotel room in Chablis, France. The birds are tweeting in the trees, lovely green trees, outside. Its slightly chilly, about 19 degrees C, but the sun is shining and the air is free of dust. All good. But I thought I better get some thoughts down about last week, when Stu and I visited two restaurants during the Jumeirah restaurant week in Dubai. That is before the wonderful food and wine we are having here in France makes me forget all about it.
The restaurant week runs for…a week obviously, and is intended as a way to encourage you to try new restaurants in the group. Offering a set menu for a special price, excluding grape beverages sadly, the idea is to highlight a few of the dishes on offer in each case.
Last year, or was it the year before that, I switched to a chemical free cleaning solution for our home called Enjo. Made in Austria these special fibres work with water to pick up and hold dirt, leaving your home clean and free of chemical residue. Yes its a big ask to believe that this works effectively, but it does. And it makes cleaning quick and easy. And I love not having black feet any-more from walking around barefoot on my tiled floor (no more soap residue). Anyway this isn’t really the point of my story. The problem, or shall we say challenge, I am facing is finding (and keeping) a maid to integrate with this new system. Unfortunately the lovely lady we had for several years, and who was “ENJO trained” by then, left us as she was going back to the Philippines. So I have been on a quest to find a maid that cleans well (my thing), irons well (Stu’s thing), keeps our pet cats inside and the friendly stray cats outside (very NB) whilst not demolishing my walls with the vacuum cleaner. After trying several agencies I have basically given up and gone back to cleaning my own house – although my one concession is having someone do the ironing as I hate ironing. Which ultimately brings me to the point – I have noticed a very strange phenomenon here, pretty much every maid I have tried irons trousers in the same bizarre way. Namely flat, instead of with the fold in the front. I can’t understand why. Combine this with trousers that are sometimes a little short to begin with (in my case anyway) and I end up looking like a clown in the circus. All I need are those big floppy shoes to go with it.
not a flattering look
I just received an email from BBC Good Food ME about a foodie thing, their World Food Festival to be precise, happening at the Burjuman Centre from the 14th May. You may not know about it (I didn’t) so I thought I would share it with you just in case you might fancy popping down there.
Happy Mother’s Day as well to all my lovely lady readers.
Enjoy the week!
Burjuman World Food Festival
When we first moved to Dubai we noticed that a lot of the streets have no names. Its normal here when getting directions to base these on land-marks versus road names. And sometimes the landmarks no longer exist but are so well remembered by those that have lived here for some time that they are still used. Took me ages to figure out where Interchange 1 is for example. Even the location maps that companies send you will show roads and intersections with other businesses as landmarks, but sans road names. And you will be told something like – turn left at the new Spinneys (opened in 2005), second roundabout right, third street left where the big boat is parked outside the house with the green roof. No wonder we all get lost all the time right?
Please take note of the following numbers.
- for General Police Enquiries (labour complaints, traffic fine info and birth, death & burial certificates) dial 901 or email email@example.com
- for emergencies dial 999
Using the correct number means the emergency switchboard does not get clogged up with unnecessary, non-emergency calls. Apparently half of the 2.3 million calls at the moment are trivial.