On the way, finally.

After what seemed like ages twisting and turning on the plane trying to find some sort of comfortable position, the pilot finally announced we would be descending in Dubai and to please ditch any drugs or American propaganda we may have. Not quite the Arab world yet, but good preparation for what lies ahead. The plane lands, I bump my head on the airplane door one more time while exiting and find myself at the Dubai airport. I only have one hour before my connecting flight to Sana'a, so I decide to wonder around the airport to see what delights Dubai has to offer.

It seems there arent too many 6 foot 4 blondies walking around the airport so Im immediately met by curious stares. Maybe its the way I look. Completely zombified from a sleepless flight and desperately in need of a shower. My ears are still more obtuse than a pack of drunken rednecks as I begin to ask directions to the departure gate. A coffee is definately in order to kickstart enough braincells to get me to the gate. Perhaps a ciggie might go down well too. I ask directions to thhe smoking room and as time is passing by quickly Dubai itself will need to remain unexplored for the time being, which is just as well as I just paid 14 US dollars for an apple juice....So so cheap. Two days here and I would be broke and on my way back to Oz. After a 15 minute walk I arrive to the smoking room. It is absolutely gruesome. I walk inside and develope

bronchitis,lung cancer and emphasyma all in the first breath. Disgusting..feral..are the first words I can think of. Im surrounded by a pack of smoking afficionados . They stem from all parts of the world, all magically drawn to the one shitty disgusting room at the dubai airport to share in the same common passion....chain smoking. It seems there is some sort of unspoken yet understood contest going on as to who can continuosly light one ciggie of the last in an never ending conquest to smoke themselves to death. The winner gets to leave in a body bag. I light mine up, but I just cant seem to do it. Its way too depressing in here. I take one drag, met by curious eyes wondering if perhaps I too am there to join the death contest. Not today thank you... I butt mine out after the first drag and walk out of the gas chamber minus 3/4 of my noirmal lung function.

As i proceed to the Sana'a gate Im approached by a nosey airport worker who asks me" Hi, where are you travelling to?"... I feel like saying mind your business but I reply " to Sana'a"!!, cheesy smile plastered over my sleepy face. His jaw drops, he searches for words to say, but all he manages is a drawn out...."why?".. as in..why the heck would you possibly want to go there..

I tell him, no, Im not part of a western espionage organization and no, Im not going there to be trained in a terrorist camp.. Im just visiting my cousin.. he lives there, we are very close and I need a vacation.. and seriously..does it really matter anyways?. His face is puzzled, he searches for clues, I give him none. An uncomfortable silence holds us both stunned like dear in headlights, this is my cue to cut the odd conversation short, so with a quick...well, have a good time working in this extremely expensive airport, I grab a hold of my hand luggage and continue towards the gate. Give me some sleep.. Give me Sana'a... air travel sucks...