Blockheads

I have posted a number of times about the sandy snicket that affords relief to intrepid 4WD-owning commuters bypassing the Sharjah-Dubai traffic. Here, for instance. Or here, here and this memorable moment here on the day I caught one of the employees of Dubai's beloved traffic regulator, the RTA (Road and Transport Authority), who regularly use the snicket to escape the chaos they are at least morally partially responsible for.

And then they started to try and block it. Quite who 'they' are remains a mystery. The increasingly insane attempts to block the short cut have meant that this small stretch of inter-Emirate sand is now littered with concrete blocks, barriers, quite extensive sandy berms, trenches and a constant flow of people insisting on crossing anyway. We're a hard lot to stop when we've got an alternative to sitting on the road for 2 hours jostling with every other poor sod on his way to work. (My other alternatives are, BTW, move to Dubai or ship out. I'm not doing the National Paints Shuffle or the Ettihad Road car park every day. No way.)

It's been quite fun, in its way. Seeing the new set of obstacles every night and then finding a way around them really does mix a little fun, a smidgen of winding down after the day adventure and perhaps even a splash of eff-you rebellion.

But it's getting beyond a joke now - the entire stretch is so built-up, blocked off and messed around that people are really damaging their cars trying to get through. The sand's soft, the driving's technical and 9/10 of the border rats are getting stuck. As of today, with the addition of a new set of barriers and impediments, there are only two possible ways through and both are 'difficult' drives.

And I am damned if I will let them win. Whoever 'they' are.

Damned.

Taxi

So Sharjah taxis have implemented the Dhs20 surcharge for going to Dubai but, as far as I have seen, Dubai taxis have not implemented the charge the other way.

The charge was ostensibly to make it easier on drivers reluctant to brave the traffic and not be able to return with a fare due to the odd rule that cabs can't pick up fares in other emirates. A driver rewarded is a driver keen to serve, is the theory, no?

As Gulf News (690g) asserts, in the report linked above: "Taxi companies in both Sharjah and Dubai lobbied for the new flag-fall rate. The decision was taken to provide an incentive to taxi drivers, who have sometimes refused to make the trip between the two emirates, especially during peak hours or on holidays, leaving passengers helpless."

The truth, certainly according to the cabbies I've spoken to, is a little less poetic.

Out of the Dhs20, the cabbie gets only Dhs5. Dhs13 goes directly to the company and the rest gets eaten in 'fees and commissions'.

As usual, the cabbies get screwed over, the cab companies take our money. We get the same old woeful levels of service but get gouged again.

Amazing.

2009: Flat is the new up...

I have been hearing a few comments that 2009 will be a good time for public relations because companies will be looking to save money and PR is a better way to reach people for less than advertising.

I disagree strongly. For sure companies will be reducing budgets in 2009, although I believe there are enough people out there that understand slashing A&P to zero is not a smart reaction to a bear market. But this is a time of unparalleled opportunity, a time where brands will be made or broken. And the differentiator, IMHO, will be how cleverly companies communicate – how they explore new ideas and approaches, integrating social media and other innovative ways of reacting to customers and communicating with customers. The winners will be the companies that communicate more effectively with their customers and stakeholders throughout times of uncertainty.

You might think that a recession is a time to be conservative and play it safe. You know, do the things that you know work, perhaps just less of them. But 2009 is going to be an amazing time for those who are brave enough to try new approaches and bring innovation to play, to invest in building their brands while competitors are trying to just protect their brands using old tools and scant resources.

The need to bring a new intelligence into play means challenging existing strategies, tools and relationships. It’s going to mean re-examining the company and its communications needs, adapting processes and strategies to meet the demands of a fast-moving market and embracing fast changes in media and other channels to reach customers and the people that influence them.

This is a good time to bring in experienced communicators to work alongside your own teams, to start challenging the business from C-level down, reworking the way that the organisation talks to its audiences to drive more value into the company’s communications using smarter, technology-led direct communications and online communications tools in particular.

Advertising has its role to play, so does PR. But the opportunity is for smart communicators – whatever their discipline, client-side and agency-side. It's not just about 'this way is cheaper', because it really needs to be about 'this way is smarter'...

This piece originally appeared as one of the chucklesomely named 'A Moment with McNabb' colums in Campaign Middle East magazine.

Kidding

Now, this is about as scientific a measure of the exodus as weighing Gulf News (640g) is a measure of real estate advertising revenue, but today was my first 'proper' day back at work this year and the drive to work was significantly eased by a marked decrease in the morning traffic queues. In fact, looking at the length of them, I'd say they were about 30% shorter than in December. And, unless I've missed something big, there's no particular reason why the roads should be light right now.

So we could speculate, perhaps, that the volume of people rushing off to school/work is around 30% down?

Which is partly what makes Damac Properties' ad in Gulf News today (about 2g in) so interesting. It's a desperate-sounding little thing, offering 2007 prices to the first 50 callers for some 'delivery in 2011' property, all headlined with the immortal words, "The property boom is back with a bang!"

They are, your humble correspondent submits, only kidding themselves...

Muscat

I do love Muscat. It sort of tumbles around between the foothills of the Hajjar mountains and the Indian Ocean, dotted with palms and swept by the cool Winter breeze flowing in from the uncertain sea; it's clean and neat, strangely and yet comfortingly similar to the coastal towns of the Eastern UAE. If, like me, you've just spent a day touring Kalba, Fujeirah, Khor Fakkan, Biddaya and Dibba with relatives, you'll instantly recognise Muscat as being cut from the same cloth.

Today Oman played Kuwait in the GCC Cup (the 19th such tournament, if you don't mind. I'm here working for a client on campaigns hung around that self same contest) and managed a nil-nil draw. Which didn't stop the city's youth taking to the streets in a massive teddy-bear hugging, beeping process of cars festooned in Omani flags and streamers that jostled on into the night.

Grief, but what are they going to get up to if they actually win?

Diet

Picked up Gulf News' Weekend edition today. I scratched around in the bottom of Spinneys' newspaper rack thingy for the missing sections before I realised it was actually all there.

550g.

42% down on its November weight.

Given that I'm precisely a kilo up after the Christmas break, I have to confess to feeling rather jealous...

Papa Rashid

Sarah used to teach a small and, although he didn't know it at the time, important little boy called Rashid, who lived in Umm Al Qawain.

She really liked Rashid. He was, as she would say, a howl. Every now and then he'd come out with some new insight into his life as a really rather special little boy. And then one day he piped up that he liked going to visit his gramps, Papa Rashid, over at the 'big house', particularly because Mama Samsa used to give him ten dirhams.

Papa Rashid, known to most as Supreme Council Member and Ruler of Umm Al-Qawain, His Highness Sheikh Rashid bin Ahmed Al-Mualla, was a well-loved ruler who had the genuine respect and devotion of his people. I've heard a number of stories about his plain-speaking humour, wit and wisdom. He died in London today.

Now Mama Samsa will be mourning him and so, as a result of our time spent in Umm Al Qawain where Sarah taught at a mad and quixotic little school for two years, are we.

Dosh

Having tourists in town don't half change the things you get to see. For instance, I wouldn't normally go near a money changers at City Centre.

So get this. According to Al Ghurair Exchange, the English and Scottish pounds have different exchange rates!!!

If anyone could explain, I would be deeply indebted. If the explanation is something along the lines of 'It's because we all live in a madhouse', then don't bother - I've been there myself.

I'm looking for something beyond that... like a real explanation of why the same currency trades at two rates... I'm sure there must be a way to make a killing out of this...

Spies

Ladies and gentlemen, I can reveal this for the first time: the ugly face of modern industrial espionage in the Middle East. It's going on all around you and yet you barely know about it, cushioned as you are from the harsh realities of life at the hard end of commercial enterprise.

As you will know, the London Irish are out on their hols, carrying with them The Niece From Hell. We decided to take a yomp up to Carrefour in Ajman to pick up a few bits and pieces when we were stopped, to our immense surprise, by security on our way in. Now, we know that Carrefour is funny about taking bags into their shop but none of us was carrying a bag beyond a ladies' handbag. None of us was wearing a stripey sweater and eye mask and a quick check of the party also ascertained that none of us was sporting a balaclava and sawn-off shotgun.

But one of us was *gasp* carrying a camera.

"Not allowed, this!" said the man from security.

"Why not?" we asked.

"Security," said the man from security with the certitude that only comes when people are given clipboards and flat-top hats with shiny peaky bits.

And then, I have to confess, the red mist descended. "What security? Are we threatening the lives of other shoppers? Do you think we'll be taking snaps of the joint so's we can guide in the 747's?" I asked, with some asperity and, given the times in which we live, probably unwisely.

In a trice it got twisted. About ten other men in epaulettes appeared from nowhere and stood around. A more senior person arrived. He was wearing a stripey tie. So we knew he was the real thing.

"It is not allowed, this," he told us, clarifying the matter.

"Why?" I asked, because by now I was keenly and gleefully committed to being an asshole. "Because you are hiding something? Your prices are fixed? Your goods are smuggled? Perhaps you are selling illegal things? You are breaking regulations? What are you hiding, please?"

"It is because of our policy, sir," he stated with a nervous giggle. "It is a problem with competitors, taking these pictures. They come and they take pictures. For competition."

And then, taking advantage of my open-mouthed silence, he smiled and, in a spirit of conciliation, he swiftly heat-sealed a plastic bag around the offending Canon 450D (IMHO a truly great camera, BTW) and allowed us to continue on our way, espionage threat averted and the free world saved - at least for the moment.

For the record, I took the above photo of the secured, no longer offending, item of photographic equipment using my 2 Megapixel camera phone...

Kids

So I haven't posted for days. Sue me.

The Niece From Hell arrived with her parents in tow on the 18th and we've been sight-seeing and shopping and generally doing family-type stuff. My Web 2.0 life has suffered as a conseqence...

One of the neat things about TNFH is that you get a ten year-old's perspective on things and that's always welcome input. This year's big phrase is OhMiGod. It must be used in every other sentence. There! I feel hipper and more 'street' already! Club Penguin is evil and makes Second Life look like a Cub Scouts' outing. Massively Online Multi-Media Games filled with 10 year-olds are bloody dangerous places, I can tell you.

Everyone spent millions of dollars on her Christmas and the runaway hit present award belongs to me - an 'i-Dog'. Think about an iPod speaker in the shape of a cute uber-funky plastic doggie that taps its white plastic paws to the music and flashes happy lights when you play tunes through it. You also have to pet it, otherwise it whines and makes unhappy light patterns. It's the result of an illicit backstage liaison between a Marshall Stack and a Tamagochi. And it's now her constant companion. Human, shmuman...

Dad, TNFH and I went to Atlantis' Aqua-thingy, which was nice. It's incredibly expensive (Think Dhs 1,000 for a half day out for three - and at 10 years old (over 1.1 metres), TNFH is an Atlantis 'adult'. You wouldn't, of course, normally find me there dead. It made me giggle, which is a worry.

The signage at Atlantis is awful. The bus dumps you and you're supposed to know what to do and where to go by osmosis. The staff we met were worse than useless, leaving us feeling disorientated and pissed off. As two men accompanying a small girl, we couldn't be with her in the changing rooms and there were no female attendants on hand. For a family from the child-abuse rich UK, that was a really big deal. Thankfully a total stranger stepped in and took care of TNFH as she changed. An interesting cultural moment - I understand that children are cherished, venerated and generally safer than houses here, but people living in the UK are in constant fear for their kids' safety. And I do think that's sad.

Once you finally find an English speaking member of staff and get them to explain the procedure, you can get on with having fun - but I cannot understand for the life of me why there aren't leaflets, signs and other aids to explaining how you're supposed to get into it! The rides are, quite simply awesome. I don't normally 'do' aqua parks, you understand, but Atlantis was great - delighted hours of bobbing around on tidal waves while sitting on inner tubes.

I still think the hotel is decorated in the style of someone who has drunk bottles of primary school poster paint and gallons of rich bouillabaise then vomited it in a massive burst of uncontrollable projectile eructation but the water park is honestly good fun.