From Hot to Cold - Dubai Trip Report, Part 4

Day Five - The day of departure. Once again, the alarm clock goes of far earlier than I’d like. I had done much of my packing the night before, so all that was left now was to throw a few bits and bobs into my suitcase and camera bag after breakfast. And of course, I couldn’t help but take another few photos of the breathtaking vista outside my hotel window. After a leisurely morning, I make my way down to reception to drop of my keycard, and then head off towards the Metro station. The train is mercifully empty, and the ride to the airport passes pretty quickly. Once I arrive, I’m once again struck by the sheer size of that airport. Even the check-in area is large enough to fit all of Dublin’s Terminal 1 and 2 in there and still have room to spare. The exercise indicator on my Apple Watch fills up to just under 50% just by walking to my counter.

My ride to the airport. Not the bus, the metro in the background.

I'll really miss this view!

Check-In is a breeze, and to my delight I am told that I’ll have my entire row, 41, for myself. That’ll make the 7 hour flight to Dublin much more bearable. Passing through security is a breeze as well, although the inspection is rather thorough. Then it’s on to the gate. As those who read the first instalment of my trip report may remember, Dubai International Airport is enormous. Terminal 3 is the second largest airport terminal in the world, only exceeded in size by Beijing airport. this is shown by the train ride out to my pier, which takes a good 3-4 minutes this time, follows by another ride in those huge elevators up to the gate level. Given that spectacular entrance, the actual gate area in Concourse A is rather disappointing. Yes, there are plenty of stores, some interesting eateries, and the curved facade that blends seamlessly into the roof is nothing short of spectacular. However, it all seems rather generic. In addition, the blue-white colour palette used in the terminal makes the entire building feel slightly antiseptic. After a few last minute purchases, including a model of the Burj Khalifa, I make my way up to one of the numerous lounges for a light lunch and some downtime.

Nope, that's not another line of the Dubai Metro. That's the transfer train between  the main terminal 3, and Concourse A 

The elevators leading from the transfer level to the gates. One elevator cab spans two of those rails.

And that's an overview of the transfer level. 

aircraft photography is a pain in the neck thanks to those decals on the windows!

I do have to say that the curved walls are super-sleek. I just wish the architects had done more with that.

Soon, boarding time comes around, and I head over to my gate. My aircraft, another Boeing 777-300ER, registration A6-ECZ, is parked at stand A1, right at the westernmost end of Concourse A. She was delivered to Emirates fresh off the assembly line in February 2010, and has spent her entire career with the Dubai base carrier. She has a slightly more modern cabin layout and seating than the bird that brought me here, and lacks the first class suites, not that the latter fact would be of any importance to cattle class passengers like me. Once again, the amenities in economy class are rather limited, with a pillow, a blanket, and headphones. I’ve learned from my mistake on the outbound flight, though, and bought an airline adapter for my own headphones, so I won’t be needing the emirates ones. The flight is pretty empty in the aft cabin, I’d say we’re looking at a load factor of slightly more than 50%. Good for me, not quite so good for Emirates.

And there she is, my flight home. Well, to Dublin, anyway.

I just love those glass jetways. Too bad they are so rare.

Another Emirates bird at the gate next door.

The upgraded ICE screen, with a USB charging port, and more importantly a headphone jack, to the right of the remote control.

Once again, the amenities are rather limited.

Immigration Card? What's up with that?

Offering a menu even in economy is really a nice touch...

...even if the selection is rather limited.

Boarding is completed relatively quickly, and the crew comes around with pre-takeoff drinks and hot towels, as well as a menu card for dinner later on. Unlike on the way out, I’m not completely zoned out, so I can actually enjoy the little gestures like that. And there’s just something about watching pushback and engine startup through the external cameras. The taxi to the active runway, Runway 30R, takes a bit of time, as the afternoon hub operation of Emirates begins to pick up speed. In fact, apart from one solitary Boeing 737 belonging to Indian airline Jet Airways, all you see is Emirates tails. When it finally is our turn to take off, the take-off roll seems to take forever. The engines and wings just don’t “bite” as well in the hot air, and it is only fair that our eventual takeoff performance pretty much resembles that of a morbidly obese pterodactyl. Not that I’m complaining, as I watch the Dubai Creek, and Al Ras pass under the wing outside my window, with the palisades of skyscrapers along Sheikh Zayed Road and Burj Khalifa beckoning tantalisingly in the distance before disappearing into the seemingly ever-present heat haze. Shortly afterwards, the World comes into view, a stark reminder of the fickleness of fate, and the Gulf economy. Originally envisaged by developer Nakheel Properties as a luxury archipelago of homes, upscale retail and entertainment venues and hotels, only one of the 300 islands is currently developed and operational, with construction work progressing on a handful of others. 

On the way to the runway.

Another Emirates aircraft? It's like Emirates has a base here in Dubai ;) 

Despite its size, Dubai Airport is basically a city airport, as this image just after takeoff shows. You can just make out the Burj Khalifa in the distance.

A last look at Al Ras, Al Shindhahga and the creek.

The "old" port of Dubai.

Hominem te memento - There's more than a little hubris in the World Archipelago off the Dubai coast.

That's Ras Laffan in the distance, a LNG terminal in Qatar, and currently the largest artificial harbour in the world.

As the coastline and follies of Dubai recede in the distance, we turn northwards, following the Gulf towards the Iraq/Iran border. Once again, I’m struck by the close proximity of the different countries and potential flash points in the region. A mere twenty minutes after leaving behind the UAE coast, Qatar comes into view, with the long seawalls and loading piers of the Ras Laffan LNG terminal jutting out from the coast of the island emirate, a stark reminder of the basis of much of the region’s wealth and troubles. In fact, the troubles of the region are brought home once more as one of the last identifiable places along the Saudi coast before that drifts into the haze turns out to be Al Khafji, the location of the only real Iraqi counterattack on Saudi Arabia during the 1991 Gulf War. A slight turn to our right brings us to the Iranian side of the Gulf, and we cross the coast somewhere between Bushehr and Bandar-E-Mahshahr, the waters of the Shatt-al-Arab glistening in the distance. This is as close as I’ve ever been to Iraq, and as close as I ever want to be if I’m honest. The pre-dinner snacks and drinks that are being handed out in the cabin do little to ease the uneasy feeling in my stomach. 

The shape of things to come....

Sorry for the smudges, it wasn't easy getting this panoramic view of the cabin, as we were just passing through a patch of turbulence. 

I admit the tray looks a bit crowded, but I've had airline meals that were presented a lot worse.

The main course, barbecue chicken with broccoli and mashed potatoes. It may not look like much, but was absolutely delicious.

We continue hugging the Iran-Iraq border until we reach Turkish airspace. Shortly after the Gulf drifts out of sight behind us, the crew begins with the dinner service. The menu selection is a bit uninspired, fish or chicken, but the presentation is nice. As is the quality, top marks to Emirates for that. As the bright sunlight and heat haze make it pretty much impossible to see anything outside, I pull down the shades, and turn my attention to ICE, the onboard entertainment system. I’ve got two movies on my watch list: Independence Day - Resurgence, and Star Trek Beyond. The former plays well into Turkish airspace and is not bad, although it lacks the charm of the original Independence Day. It is a bit too much “by the numbers” and “tick all the boxes” for my taste, and takes itself too seriously. Star Trek Beyond, which takes me from the Black Sea to the border region between Hungary and Romania, is a much better movie, and finally has that Star Trek feel that the last few movies lacked. By the time the credits roll, night has almost fallen outside, and the lights of Budapest pass below us. Roughly two more hours to go until Dublin. For these two hours, we follow an almost too familiar path, passing Vienna and later Frankfurt, before finally beginning our descent somewhere northwest of Liverpool. 

Sunset above the clouds...

There's always something magical about it.

On final, Runway 10, cleared to land.

As comfortable as the economy class seats on Emirates are, at least when you have a full row to yourself, by this time, I’m just about done with flying, and can’t wait to be on the ground again. Alas, I have to wait a bit more, as we are vectored towards a landing on Runway 10 at Dublin Airport, probably waking up half of Meath in the process as the flight crew throttles up again and again. When we finally turn final, it is weird fascinating to see the runway lights on the ICE display, their bright lights guiding us over the last few minutes. Touchdown is soft as silk, but wheel brakes and thrust reversers begin to bite almost immediately, an understandable fact given the much shorter runway in Dublin. The taxi from the runway to the terminal is mercifully short, and I end my flight exactly where I started it just a few days earlier, at Gate 410. Once again, our flight is the last to arrive into Terminal 2 at Dublin Airport, so the building is shutting down for the night as we disembark from the aircraft. Immigration is no big deal, but it takes quite some time for me to get my luggage, not really surprising given the size of the aircraft.

With my suitcase finally back in my hands, I make my way to the bus stop for the hotel shuttle. I had booked a hotel close to the airport when arranging this trip, as I had expected that I would NOT be in any mood for a three hour bus ride right after a seven hour flight. That turns out to be a wise decision, as I am absolutely exhausted. I’m pretty sure the massive change in temperature has done nothing to improve the situation, as Ireland, being Ireland, welcomes me with 12 degrees and a light drizzle. I’m pretty much certain that I leave a trail of steam all the way from the terminal to the hotel shuttle. The hotel room is nothing special, but it does have a nice, welcoming bed, which is just what I need. I head back down to the hotel bar to grab a bite to eat, but given that the hotel is buzzing with what looks like a wedding reception with the accompanying party, I retreat to my room pretty quickly. Within minutes, I’m fast asleep.

Not quite up to the standards of the Rose Rayhaan, but who cares. I've got a bed , and that's all that counts.

The morning after. Waiting for the airport shuttle at the Clayton Hotel Dublin Airport.

Quite a change from the high-rises in Dubai, let me tell you that.

I wake up early the next morning, once again way too early for my taste. The last leg of my journey is still ahead of me, so I quickly shower, pack up my belongings, and head down to the reception to wait for the shuttle bus. My plan is to head back to Dublin Airport, grab the bus to Dublin Heuston station, and take the intercity train back to Cork. The first two parts of the plan work like a charm, and I arrive at Heuston with thirty minutes to spare. Unfortunately, that train ride turns out to be rather less comfortable than I had hoped, as the train is overbooked, and I spend the two hours and thirty minutes like a sardine in a can. The fact that the service is operated by one of the new 22000 class trainsets does not help either, as the seats may be adequate for a regional service, but are rather uncomfortable for journeys over ninety minutes. Still, it gets me to Cork and certainly beats Aircoach in the comfort department. Shortly after 2 PM, I’m finally back home.

This is the type of train that took me home. 

If this looks a bit uncomfortable to you, then you're right.

So, what remains of this trip? Well, my impressions are conflicting, to say the least. On one hand, the sheer scale of Dubai is breathtaking, and made even more so by the fact that it was built in one of the more inhospitable corners of the planet. The architecture along vast stretches of the Sheikh Zayed Road is nothing short of futuristic, and it is no surprise that a number of buildings in Dubai were used as locations for Star Trek Beyond. If anyone wants to know how the 22nd century will look, Dubai is a pretty safe bet. On the other hand, there is little authenticity there, a fact that is not helped by the myriads of foreign workers of all industries and trades that work in Dubai. Apart from immigration and security control at Dubai Airport, and the odd policeman or policewoman, you likely won’t have much contact with actual Emiratis, who tend to be working either in the military or in higher functions. In addition, while developments such as the heritage village at Al Shindhagha and Al Ghubaiba metro stations certainly give a good impression of how things looked in Dubai before the oil and gas boom, much of the old town has since been buried under office blocks and apartment developments. 

Despite being so deeply embedded into the Arabian peninsula, and being clearly Islamic in nature, Dubai was surprisingly western when I was there. Many people were dressed to fit the climate, and only very few missteps were evident. Also, I was surprised at the number of Emirati women working for the police and immigration at the airport, making it very clear that the issues at work in Dubai are much more complex than many of us here in the west seem to realise. I cannot say anything about the migrant worker issues and slave labour that are so often mentioned in our own news media over here, as I never witnessed anything relating to that topic during my brief stay. It seems pretty clear however that there is a Blade Runner underbelly to the Star Trek like futurism that is ever-present in the city. 

So, will I go back? Almost definitely, if the current political crisis in the Gulf can be contained, that is. Despite the many contradictions inherent in that place, or maybe because of them, Dubai is a fascinating, and somewhat addictive place.