Day One
Osaka; Dubai
Dressing for Dubai was a bit difficult, given that I had desired to pack as lightly as possible--and as I would be going from the chilly 9 degrees of wintry Japan to the pleasant 27 degrees of wintery UAE, I debated for quite a while over whether to wear a jacket (and later stash it into my suitcase, meaning less room for souvenirs) or try to gut it out and dress with long-sleeved shirt and my signature suit jacket. Opting for the latter proved to be a brilliant choice. The Emirates flight from Kansai Airport ended up being pretty great--despite the cabin air being a little nippy (I had decided this was to acclimate everyone to the temperature difference--first start cool in Japan, and then gradually increase the temperature to meet that of Dubai. Turns out, though, they just wanted to keep everyone cool.) and the seats being a tad narrow. Nevertheless, I found the food and overall atmosphere of the plane to be quite wonderful, and from the selection of over 50, I happily caught up on my movies before falling asleep.
As we descended into Dubai right around midnight, I turned on the plane's downward camera feed, alternating between that and the view ahead. Gradually the flecks of light scattered what I later found out to be desert sand turned into more organized patterns; these came to be connected to lines of streetlights, which like streams flowing into rivers grew into grids--and then the heart of Dubai, glowing with the amber light of streetlamps and dotted with the pure white spotlights of hundreds of ongoing construction projects came into view.
And then we landed, taxied around for a short while, and nestled up to the giant curving cocoon of DXB's sparkly-new Terminal 3. What I saw within truly gave me pause: dozens upon dozens of shops, sculpted gardens, and acres of breezy airspace meeting the glass high above.
So, I kind of blame the same sort of awe for my having gotten lost after I cleared customs and changed some yen to dirhams. In typical Tim-adventure fashion, I went left instead of following the large exit signs "right", and went instead right into the employees' exit. The type that you need some sort of badge, identification, and access clearance for. The kind that when you enter, all sorts of people look at you a little strangely for carrying a backpack and trailing a suitcase behind. Yes, I was a bit surprised that there didn't seem to be any other passengers (I blame fatigue for this one), but I reckoned that maybe the 200-something others on my flight were perusing duty-free.
It was only when I started running into steam and plumbing pipes and Indian work crews pointing at me with grins that transcend all languages (of the "hey guys--look at where this guy's going!" variety) that I decided to retrace my steps and see if I couldn't find the real exit.
Eventually I did, and I think I gave a good share of people some fine entertainment (namely some of the duty free staff, who, without speaking and with a chuckle in their eyes, pointed me in the right direction)--and finally met up with my friend.
"I was getting a bit worried about you--did you get lost in the terminal or something?" Hiromi asked as we headed to her car. I chuckled and said, "yeah--something like that."
