Day 14: Paradise

7.5.09 - I’m in heaven, finally we’ve moved into our own place on a Western compound. No more dirty carpets, old plumbing, leaking taps and dark mosquito infested rooms. After 2 weeks in a run down serviced apartment, isolated, having to take taxis everywhere, to and from school, and everything in between, no one to talk to and nothing to do within walking distance. You get the picture. Our new home is heaven. Modest by Saudi standards but big by our London standards, we are relishing the bright spacious rooms, the cleanliness of it all, the 3 bathrooms, the taps that work, the abundant storage space, the feeling that we can start our new life. Within hours we’ve met some new friendly people, with invitations to shopping trips, coffee mornings and bridge. The central Noticeboard is covered with activities on offer, Pilates (yes please), Arabic for beginners (maybe), a Hummer 2 for sale (we’re very tempted) and lots more. 

Our lovely home, admittedly rather ugly on the outside, which is a shame because there is lots of impressive Arabic architecture around, is sparsely furnished with only bare essentials. So we decide to head off to get some bare essentials, plates, glasses, etc to get us through until our shipment arrives from London. And there is only one place to go to get that kind of thing, yes it’s Ikea. We grab a taxi and make our way to Ikea Riyadh, which is surprisingly similar to the London one, except for a few minor differences. Pricing is in Arabic (and gobbledygook to us), and only sporadically translated into English, and the restaurant is divided up into family rooms. This is quite common (even Starbucks have them) and it allows women to eat in privacy so that they can take off their head gear without god forbid another man seeing them. The food is delicious and we gorge ourselves on fresh salads (hard to come by), bottomless pepsis and freshly squeezed orange juice. There’s even a hot dog takeaway place at the exit, also serving shish kebabs, divided into two queues, one male and one female. As usual, we end up buying far more than our list, including a very large ironing board which we know is not going to fit in the boot of the taxi… But hey ho, that’s Ikea for you, it makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do!

Back at the ranch, which involves some complicated double taxi sequence, to get through the high security of our compound (normal taxis are not allowed to come into compound, so we have to drive up to the outside gate, take all our shopping out including very large ironing board, stand like right plonkers in the middle of the street, and wait for the taxi compound to turn up to take us through into our Western sanctuary).

Once home, we decide to head to the pool, 50 metres away. It’s amazing to be able to just walk out of our back yard, and within minutes be splashing around a pool. We notice some alcohol on a table nearby, a bottle of gin and some white wine. First time I see alcohol since I’ve arrived, although I haven’t missed it a bit. I can’t even tell that the alcohol-free beer has no alcohol, after a long hot day, it tastes just delicious. But clearly alcohol can be bought, illegally of course, and I’ve been told at great expense. It’s now 6.30pm, Dirk and I are lying on our deck chairs by the pool, the children are running around having fun, the sun is setting, the moon is coming up, we’re sipping our beers, and there’s a perfect warm wind blowing over our cold swimming pool soaked bodies. We can hear in the distance the call to prayer. This is our life now, and we’re loving it.

To finish off the day, I get a phone call, a maid who works for a few other families. Do I need her? She can iron, cook, clean, look after the children, for £4 an hour negotiable. Um, let me think about it…..