Determined to continue our westbound journey instead of crossing back over the Pacific, we managed to work out a couple of quick but pleasant city stops. Qatar Airways was a convenient way to get from Southeast Asia to Europe, and that meant stop number one was Doha, Qatar’s capital.
We arrived in the early morning after a red eye flight, feeling overwhelmed by the sprawling airport layout. Many international airports require long walks from the arrival gates to the terminal, but in Doha that walk would be a grueling 30 minutes. Who would be able to take that on after a shallow snooze and a skimpy airplane breakfast? Thankfully the Qatari did not find that acceptable and had a train built to speed up the process. That way one could get through immigration faster and get acquainted with a generous Middle Eastern breakfast at sea level, where the taste buds fire on all cylinders.
The airport was air conditioned to the point where wearing a light jacket was necessary. As we crossed the final threshold separating the building from the great outdoors, the heat and humidity hit us with the intensity that Indonesia did not adequately prepare us for. It was a race against the clock, will the Uber arrive before we completely melt into the hot pavement?
Our hotel graciously allowed us to check in right away, although it wasn’t even 8 am. Then again, September is far from high season in Doha, and I suspect they were not busy at all. Complementary nuts and dates were waiting for us in the room, but most importantly, coffee. Not just any coffee, but an entire thermos of delightfully strong Arabic coffee, with a touch of cardamom. Seeing my excitement at this simple luxury, the clerk told us we can call them up and ask for more coffee whenever we wanted. We chatted briefly about life, and it turned out he was originally from Lebanon. It was not my first time in the Gulf countries, and by now I knew that meeting a Qatari working in the service industry was just not going to happen. But you can certainly find out what life is like in Qatar for those who left their homes in search of a better life elsewhere.
The daytime heat was hard to survive, and clearly, very few people bothered. The streets were empty, except for the passing cars. When we finally got the courage to venture outside at 5:30 pm, the hotel staff were flabbergasted that we chose to walk to the metro station instead of getting a taxi to our destination. We like to walk, we told them. They did not look convinced.
The metro was ridiculously clean and ridiculously empty. There were co-ed cars, and also those reserved strictly for women and children. There were also special “gold” cars for those who coughed up more for their tickets. From what I could tell, all they got were more elaborate decorations and slightly wider seats. Considering how uncrowded the main cars were, I wondered what’s the point. It’s not like the “gold” service included special treats.
The distant downtown lights, the disarming stray cats, and damp breeze coming from the gulf – it was all a pleasant backdrop as the city began to wake up from its daytime slumber and slowly fill up with life. We headed to the old market, Souq Waqif. Among the numerous stalls selling spices, sweets, clothing and accessories were the falconry shops. The birds were sitting on carpeted perches, spaced apart, many with their eyes still sewn shut. It is a practice aimed at calming falcons that have not yet accustomed to human handling and being inside. I couldn’t help but notice that some of them looked sickly and aggravated. There are dedicated falcon veterinary clinics, so hopefully all these birds will be well cared for by their eventual owners. Their level of freedom was quite different from the numerous cats roaming the market, hiding behind the merchandise or unapologetically taking over the outdoor restaurant furniture.
I decided to wake up early to see the sunrise. The weather app was telling me this should be the time of day with the coolest temperature. It was true, the absolute temperature was slightly lower, but the humidity was over 90% and it felt more stifling than at noon. The air over the gulf was filled with haze, the pastel colors of the sunrise subdued. It felt like there was not enough oxygen. I lasted less than a minute and headed back to the respite of the air conditioned room.
Around 5 pm we felt the heat began to subside and took the metro to Education City. It is an area in Al Rayyan, a city just west of Doha proper, which houses university campuses, parks, and the Qatar National Library. Many of the universities were satellites of well known Western schools, such as Carnegie Mellon and Georgetown. We roamed around the carefully laid out pathways in the last bits of light, admiring the eclectic mix of architecture. There was still ongoing construction in some sections. Some buildings would not look out of place at a North American university, others were distinctly modern and distinctly Islamic, with flowing organic shapes and calligraphic motifs. The classes were over, but there were still students lingering around.
The National Library proved the most interesting destination. The upper level of the building is an airy hall with stacks upon stacks of books and plenty of open space to read them. It’s a functional space, designed for actual research and reading, not terribly enticing to those who can’t read Arabic. The lower level, on the other hand, is a maze filled with ancient manuscripts, old books, maps, historic photographs, and pieces of calligraphic art. We stayed there until closing time, with the security guard having to politely remind us three times that it was time to leave.
With those doors closed, we headed to Katara, a neighborhood in Doha that is actively trying to position itself as a cultural destination. High end shopping, dining, art centers, green spaces, a beautiful mosque – very expected, and a street named after Shakespear – not expected at all. There was an upscale grocer filled with exotic goods ranging from limited edition Evian water, to fruit jams in cute jars, to gold trimmed coffee serving sets, to super sized boxes of Kellogg’s corn flakes.
As we stepped outside on the opposite side of the sprawling store, we were hit by a wave of air conditioned cool. The surrounding restaurants had outdoor courtyard seating, but you would be crazy to expect the Qatari to suffer there in the heat. We’re not talking about some small devices cooling individual tables, no. The entire courtyard was blasted by cold air from distant vents. We paused for a moment, processing. I didn’t even want to know how much a cup of coffee would cost in a place like this. On the whole, Doha is not expensive. The metro is affordable, and there are plenty of very good places to eat, drink and stay on budget. But if you want excess, you will have no shortage of options here. Global warming? Fear not, we got outdoor air conditioning.
It was time to move on. Hotel breakfast was served at 6 am, and our flight was departing at 8 am. Was I going to skip the luxurious middle eastern breakfast spread for fear of missing my flight? Never! We went down to the buffet with our packed bags, and devoured all we could in 25 minutes. Not many things in life feel as satisfying as spooning freshly prepared shakshuka onto your plate first thing in the morning.
It was not even 7 am and we were already walking to the gate. Fueled by the excellent breakfast, everything seemed to be running more efficiently and there was an extra pep in our step. Our flight to Amsterdam was so quick, you couldn’t even finish Lord of the Rings trilogy on it. Without missing a beat, we were on the next train from the airport to the city center.
The streets of Amsterdam were dressed for autumn, and people were everywhere enjoying the crisp weather. The famous canals were there, yes, but I was more impressed by the courage of the delivery truck drivers squeezing along the narrow streets in the historic center. It seemed between the canals and houses there was barely any space to walk, let alone drive.
The city was basking in the quirky and the fun, almost taking the non-seriousness of itself a little too seriously. Window display after window display would try to impress you with kitschy or suggestive art pieces, occasionally offering tempting desserts, too, to provide your brain with the sugar required to keep up. There is no shortage of world class museums in Amsterdam, but I much prefer the animate nature of art and history within the city itself, and its inevitable interaction with people living and working there. Alex got stomach flu, which put him out of commission for the better part of the day, and gave me lots of time sitting by the window, staring at the canal and the quiet streets.
We chatted with the taxi driver taking us to the airport. Asked if he lived in the city, and he shuddered at the suggestion. Of course not, that would be crazy! He seemed mildly traumatized from his experiences with the more frequent visitors to Amsterdam – British young men. Recreational drugs are illegal in the UK, and this was an easy destination to try them out. Either weed or mushrooms, but not both, the driver instructed. Sadly, many people don’t listen, with unfortunate outcomes. Amsterdam cyclists don’t stop or slow down for anyone, and even fully sober we almost became roadkill.
Out of the city, through the green countryside, and into the hectic Schiphol airport. It was the end of our time in Amsterdam, and the beginning of another long transit.
