A Leap of Faith

Slowly, oh so painfully slowly, things seem to be coming together for us in Abu Dhabi. Nothing has actually changed but it seems like we’re on the brink. Forms are signed, agreements in principle reached and, if past example is anything to go by, we’ll be expected to be ready when they come to fruition. So we’ve booked a flight out for me. Twice.

The first time we just booked the outward journey. I wouldn’t be returning anytime soon, right? Well, maybe. I have to apply for a Visitor’s Visa on entering the country and to get that I need a return ticket for within thirty days. Cue a morning of frustrating emails and phone calls to change the booking. No, as it turned out, not change the booking but cancel the first and rebook the exact same flight plus a return journey. Oh, and fork out not inconsiderable sums in cancellation charges along with the price of the flights going up with each maddening request.

Yet a flight has been booked, the prized e-ticket is in my possession. I’ll be there when we get an apartment, able to choose the furniture and be there to take delivery. I’ll be able to start the process of applying for a resident’s visa. It might even be sorted within the thirty days allowed. If not, I’ll be needing that other e-ticket.

Some Progress

Things seem to be progressing in Abu Dhabi. Neil still doesn’t have his visa so despite numerous meetings he hasn’t been able to start working properly yet. In the meantime he has been hunting for an apartment for us, between dodging the Etihad stewardesses in micro bikinis at the hotel pool, of course.

It looks like he’s found one which will suit us both (apartment that is not stewardess. Or micro-bikini, come to that) and has put a deposit down until all the paperwork is sorted. How long will that take? Anyone’s guess, really. There’s no point me going out there yet. Despite the micro-bikini-clad beauties, hotel living doesn’t actually sound much fun and the heat and humidity are very limiting.

 

I’m all ready to go, though: Clothes are sorted and ready to be packed, toiletries set aside in a bag, shoes bought and in another bag. I say that, but when it comes down to it I’m sure I’ll still be in a flap and missing something vital. So the living in limbo continues. Mainly, I watch the grass grow. Literally. Every morning I check on the progress of the grass seed I sprinkled on the lawn. Now I’ve thrown a few flower seeds on a bare patch of soil, too late in the season really but they were cheap. So I have to keep an eye out for them too. Sad or what?

 

Left To My Own Devices

I’ve heard from Neil. He’s now in Abu Dhabi, chilling in the hotel pool with furnace-like temperatures outside, waiting to start work. As he hasn’t taken a camera with him you’ll have to wait until I get out there for any pictures, though.

I am, of course, still back home in the UK fighting nature in the back garden while the house seems much quieter. A couple of pleasantly dry and warm days have brought out the floaty, long dresses around town and everyone seems to be eating ice cream. Naturally it has now clouded over, with showers forecast for the foreseeable future. I can perfectly well imagine that it won’t be long until I’m longing for days like these.

A little bit of sun has brought out the first of the geranium flowers. These purple splashes of joy have always been special to me. A few cuttings taken from the garden of the house where I was born have been transplanted into every patch of soil I have owned since. Thank goodness I planted these cuttings in a spot a bit out of the way. It is this location that saved them from the chainsaw cull a couple of years back. A few roots have now been added to the newly planted patch, as well as a pinker variety from the market.

These dry days have also given me the opportunity to rake some of the dead moss and weeds out of the “lawn” then sprinkle a load of grass seed in their place. The idea is that the grass will spring up and not give any room for the weeds to take hold. Ha! The crows have other ideas. I could hear them laughing in the surrounding trees as I was throwing handfuls on the bare soil. “Buffet time, Guys!” The cats aren’t exactly helping either!