Out of the Kaleidoscope

Not having been out of the country for over a year, I had been looking forward to this trip to Dubai. Like a voyager of yore, I was venturing out to seek my fame and, more importantly, a change of fortunes.

At Katunayake, my new blue jeans and crisp white shirt seemed to have the same effect on the security staff as a red flag would have on a bull. I was stopped at every point and the contents of my overweight bag were scrutinised with some interest. My faithful dictaphone came in for special attention.

The waiting room for passengers flying out to Dubai was like a bus terminus. The teeming masses (that remit foreign exchange that keeps CBSL from going under) were in traveling mode, it seems.

The SriLankan Airlines flight was lovely. As we left the lush greenery and red-tiled roofs behind, I settled down with a can of Carlsberg beer – and then another. Through the window, I was pensive as we flew over the southern part of India, before the aroma of delicious chicken biriyani brought me back to reality. After tucking into a scrumptious meal like that, a few minutes of snoozing is mandatory. On awakening, I sipped a glass of coffee-flavoured Tia Maria and awaited the descent.

Flying into the Gulf, one sees a vast expanse of desert... nothing but sand dunes as far as eye could see… until a few minutes before landing.

The Dubai arrivals lounge has an international flavour to it, with all those nationalities scurrying hither and thither like ants. Emerging from the airport terminus was like exiting the New Delhi airport – a crowd of South Asian-looking persons (‘cabbies’, probably) crowded the entrance.

Since it was an evening in September, I had – I was told - escaped the worst of the heat, but it was hot nevertheless. The uncle’s air-conditioned Camry whisked me away at fast clip, past signboards that read ‘Minimum Speed Limit: 60 kmph’ and ‘Maximum Speed Limit 100 kmph’.

Welcome to life in the fast lane!