Even though Leonard and Pendo’s new neighborhood is tremendously quieter than their prior ones, the call to prayer at 5 am broadcast from the local Mosque was more than enough to awaken us from our slumber. Though the population of Tanzania is 2/3 Christian, Islam makes up the majority of the other third which is certainly enough to sustain Mosques in most of the small towns throughout the country. There also remains a small fraction of those who continue to follow their respective tribal beliefs and considering that there are more than 120 tribes here, each would be a very small fraction of the total population. Arising early in the household allowed Mike and I to get showered and ready well before the four women in our group had even began to stir, though Marissa did admit to having remained lounged in bed for a bit after having awakened earlier. Our tea masala had been prepared for us and we were able to get plenty of reading for pleasure done well before everyone else in the household was up and about, including the two little ones.

As the morning wore on, of course, it was getting time for breakfast as we had planned to depart sometime around 10 AM for Karatu and FAME. Pendo, of course, was also preparing to outdo herself with a breakfast spread for everyone, so it was more a matter of trying to move things along so as not to be to delayed on our journey. Pendo has always been the most gracious of hosts and despite the fact that our teams have grown in size over the years (originally just me!), both she and Leonard have insisted on having us stay with them on both our arrivals and departures. I have repeatedly offered to make other arrangements, but they have only fallen on deaf ears as they will have nothing of it. That is how it is here, if you are family or friend, as it would be unheard of to do anything less. Allowing them to provide these acts of kindness for us bestows an honor on them and their family. Daniel Tewa, who I met in 2009 during my very visit to Tanzania, has remained a close friend and has considered me family every since. Despite our constantly growing team of doctors, he has always invited us to his family’s home for dinner with each and every trip and has continually refused any mention of mine of just having coffee given our size. It is this sense of family and home that has always impressed me here and is the reason that I’ve considered this my home as well.

Following our delicious breakfast that Pendo had provided for us, we packed the Land Rover and prepared for our safari to Karatu. I think everyone was clearly ready to finally get to FAME and begin seeing patients after their long journey across the Atlantic and the Dark Continent. We loaded up the vehicle, which was no small task considering it was all six of us and our luggage for this month long trip, but thankfully it all fit inside and we didn’t have to strap anything on the roof. We made our way through the traffic of Arusha, a town of over a million people with very few traffic lights and many traffic circles that help very little to keep things moving. It was noontime by now and everyone was out on the street shopping for necessities and all of the public marketplaces were crowded. We made it to the west end of town, driving past the new mall that very few here can even shop in, and finally leaving the city environs behind having passed by the airport. The population becomes more and more sparse until there are few towns on this major thoroughfare of Tanzania, the only road to the Serengeti, and all that is recognizable for some distance are the Maasai bomas and random herds of livestock often shepherded by a young child of single digits. It’s the dry season, so things are very dusty and there is enough particulate matter in the air that the distant mountains on the other side of the rift and difficult to make out until you are nearly upon them.

We reached the outpost of Makuyuni, where the road divides and you can either continue on towards Tarangire National Park and the much further town of Dodoma, or turn right towards the town of Mto wa Mbu, or Mosquito River, on the way to Karatu. Mto wa Mbu is at the north end of Lake Manyara, which Hemingway visited in the early 1930s hunting rhinos and commemorated in The Green Hills of Africa all about his adventures. Sadly, there are no more black rhinos living in Manyara, though they have been making a steady comeback in Ngorongoro Crater with constant monitoring of their whereabouts and rigid protection. Leaving Mto wa Mbu, we ascended the steep escarpment of the rift with fantastic views of the Lake and park below before leaving the edge and continuing our climb to Karatu which is over 5,000 feet in elevation and the foot of the crater rim and the Ngorongoro Conservation Area.

Driving through Karatu and taking the turn off the main road is something I have done so many times now that it is all second nature. I can only imagine what it would be like for those that have accompanied me here for their very first visit. It is truly paradise here as long as you avoid the monsoons in late April and May, and even in the dry season which it is now, the plants are green and luscious. There are many, many flowering plants and trees that remind you that you’re in the tropics. The temperature is cool as we arrive, yet the equatorial sun remains incredibly intense and warms with its radiant energy. I have returned home and it is always exciting for me to bring my friends here to share it with them for every one of them has been equally impressed not only with the beauty of this place, but also with the friendliness and dedication of those who call FAME their home, many of whom have done so not for over ten years. Everyone is so excited to get started tomorrow morning. We make quick work of moving into the Raynes house and making it our home, eat dinner and have time enough to watch a movie for the evening . Everyone has selected Pretty Woman which we project on the wall and then we finally call it a night after a long day on the road. Tomorrow, we will begin our neurology clinic in earnest and everyone, including me, is looking forward to that.

The night was surprisingly cool and, in comparison to Doha, it felt a bit like the arctic. Perfect sleeping weather, though, and it was much appreciated to have a good night’s sleep after the day and a half of travel to get here. I was up after sunrise and there was a delightful breeze coming through the windows as I set up shop at the dining room table as I typically do here when I’m visiting here. The kids were still asleep and the house was quiet so it was a perfect time to get some writing done and, in the end, I had about an hour’s worth of time to myself. I wasn’t completely alone, of course, as there was work being done in the kitchen in preparation for the day and, most importantly, there was a full pot of hot tea Masala prepared which is my very favorite here. Tea Masala is also served at FAME every day and teatime is perhaps our favorite time of day. At FAME, it is typically served with white bread and margarine, which has never really appealed to me, but on Wednesdays they bake mandazi which are little deep fried dough balls that are great for dunking. In the past, the mindazi were homemade by Samwell in the kitchen and I fondly recall the cooking lessons that had given to Thu when she was here. What I remember most about his mandazi, though, was their taste and their crispy crusts coupled with that “melt in your mouth” interior. Unfortunately, with the growth of FAME over the years and the responsibilities of the kitchen, the homemade mandazi has become a thing of the past and what is served now are lesser store-bought creations that have none of the love that went into Samwell’s creations. I guess that some things must inevitably suffer for the course of progress and there’s little question that the good occurring at FAME far outweighs the loss of those homemade mandazi.

I had little to do for the day as the residents would not be arriving until mid-afternoon, so I took the opportunity to relax for the morning with the children as Pendo had some things to do in town. Of course, this occurred after my mandatory fantastic breakfast of fruit and pancakes along with fresh watermelon juiced. And, oh yes, the honey was a special blend from Olduvai Gorge and was also incredibly scrumptious. One thing that I did have to do for the day, though, was to check out the Land Rover and make sure that everything was ready for the month here. As I have chronicled here over the years, vehicles here can at times be a real struggle. Even with continued maintenance and TLC they can manage to break down at the most inconvenient times and that seems to be part of the adventure here. Having been stuck axle deep in the mud in the middle of the Little Serengeti Plain at Tarangire National Park, though, was totally pilot error and one that could have ended in total disaster given the oncoming rain and the lions in the grass. Had it not been for Leonard just then entering the park on a game drive, we would probably still be there to this day or we would have been dinner for those lions. It all ended well, though, thanks to our knight in shining armor (Leonard) who came to our rescue.

Having learned my lesson in the mud, our other vehicular adventures have been of a more mechanical nature. A blown clutch plate just after having entered the Ngorongoro gate on one of the most beautiful of days prevented us from not only enjoying the crater, but also losing our fees as they wouldn’t refund them to us since we had already entered the park. They did offer for us to come back in another vehicle or after fixing ours, but we were leaving the following day. On another occasion, a worrisome vibration turned out to be a nearly detached rear driveshaft that was all the more worrisome considering we were heading around the crater rim on our way to hike Empakai Crater and probably twenty kilometers into the park in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, Sokoine, who was with us and had grown up nearby in the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, had friends that worked at the Sopa Lodge where we could possibly get it worked on. It was a still about 10 kilometers to the lodge and it was Sunday, but the mechanics came in to help us and removed the faltering driveshaft leaving us with only front wheel drive, but at least able to proceed to Sokoine’s boma and get back home with a little bit of luck and barely enough traction. It had rained during the day and getting up one minor hill on the road required everyone to get out of the vehicle and several runs to make it up. As they say, these are the stories that we’ll tell our grandchildren and the ones that we’ll always remember.

Having just acquired our new Land Rover (Turtle) last October, it was just a bit more frustrating having some of the mechanical issues that we had. We lost an alternator just outside of Upper Kitete after a clinic and had to remain where we were for probably two hours, though Soja, FAME’s mechanic and godsend, came to our rescue this time with a new alternator and changed it in the field. It was another adventure. Then, when I was left holding the entire stick shift in my hand after it had disconnected at the floorboard, I was a bit more flustered. This repair would obviously require skill far beyond my level, but we were on our way to a dinner that had been offered to us at the Plantation Lodge (very, very good) and I had no intention whatsoever of turning around. Turtle was in neutral (not a good thing when trying to move), but we were somehow able to force what was left of the shifter into third and I drove the vehicle with two gears using the transfer case – third gear high and third gear low. We eventually made it to dinner (yes!), struggled to get enough speed to make it up a hill leaving the lodge and almost losing Steve Gluckman to some wheelspin and loose gravel, but eventually made it back to FAME and thanked our lucky stars. I smile when I think back to all these events and I know that the residents (and others) who shared them with me will always remember them with similar fondness and amusement.

I check out Turtle before my ride to the airport and all systems were go. We had installed new stereo speakers after the last visit and they worked wonderfully with the new stereo that had been installed prior to the last visit. Mechanically, the vehicle sounded well and everything seemed to be running as expected. I left for the airport an hour prior to the residents flight arriving and got there shortly after their flight had landed. They were much quicker with immigration than I had been, partly due to some coaching by me, having given them instructions as to which lines to use and where to get the necessary paperwork for the business visa. They had no trouble with customs as they weren’t bringing anything for anyone so they were out in about an hour, much less than half the time it had taken me the day before. They were all so excited to finally be here and they filled me in on their visit to Doha the evening before. They had stayed at the same hotel as I had and had gone on the tour with Abubakar to see the camels, the horses and the falcons as well as the minister playing dama. They had seen a bit of the marketplace, but since they had eaten (at the same restaurant as me) before the tour, they really didn’t get to see as much of the marketplace as they had wanted as many shops were closed when they had finished the tour. I’ll develop a better itinerary for them in the future so the subsequent groups will see more.

We arrive home to Pendo’s and everyone got to meet the stars of the house, Gabriella (Gabby) and Gabriel (Big G) as well as all of the extended family that resides in the Temba residence. Unlike yesterday and my late arrival, or departure from the airport to be more accurate, we had plenty of time before dinner that we filled reading and catching up, but more significantly with a cheesy Indian soap opera that seemed to enthrall all of us. Perhaps it was all of our sleep deprivation that did it, but by dinnertime we were all watching and trying to figure out who was who. Pendo and Leonard’s sister, Violet, outdid themselves with the cooking and we had a meal fit for a king. Two meat dishes, chicken and beef, with vegetables, coconut rice, fried potatoes, salad and vegetables. Probably the best meal we’ll have while we’re here. Everyone was wickedly tired so it was off to bed after dinner. Mike and I each had our own bed in a small room while the four girls (sorry, women) had two queen beds in a larger room. I told them to think of it as a slumber party. Tomorrow we would be heading off to FAME in the late morning and the real beginning of their adventure here. Visiting with Leonard and Pendo’s family, though, is still one of the highlights of everyone’s visit here and it is through their wonderful hospitality and insistence that we all stay with them, that everyone is first introduced to Tanzanian culture which is so incredibly gracious in all respects.

 

 

I look at my phone and it’s six AM. I had planned to get up earlier to do some writing, but I had apparently passed out from exhaustion before setting my alarm on the phone. I’m trying to figure out why the bathroom light and the main light in my room are blinking alternately, which is what has woken me up otherwise I’d probably still be sleeping much past my departure time for the airport. When I try to turn those lights off, or anything else on in the room for that matter, nothing seems to want to work and it’s then that I realize the power must be out or at least there’s some major malfunction. It was truly a blessing in disguise as I would have missed my flight had it not been for being awakened by those incredibly annoying lights. As I’ve been told by a very wise man in the past, there are no coincidences, just “God-incidents,” and Father Bill definitely knew what he was talking about.

Thankfully, there’s more than enough light in the room (remember, no window) for me to quickly pack my things as my flashlight was in the extra duffel they made me check and isn’t with me at the time. Oh yes, there’s always the flashlight on my phone in case the lights go out totally and I check to make sure it charged overnight which is one thing I did right. It’s amazing how incredibly exhausted you become from traveling without even realizing it. Yes, the phone did charge and the blinking lights are still on, but for how long. Jumping in the shower was a risk if everything went out, so I had to pass up my last chance at a nice shower for several days until I arrive at FAME. I gathered my things, double checking to make sure I had all of my chargers and my passport from the safe and I’m off. Walking out of the doors to head across to the main hotel lobby I am hit with a blast of hot and humid air that immediately fogs my glasses to the extent that they are totally useless until I finally get into the lobby where once again I can see. It’s just after six am and the temperature is still 100°, but the “real feel” temperature is 115°, and the humidity is probably 70%. Like being in a sauna is perhaps an understatement.

After checking out and telling the desk clerk about my room (these things are expected in other countries and I’m used to it from spending so much time in Tanzania where brown-outs are commonplace) so they’re aware, I thank him for my lovely stay (it was truly lovely and I have Abubakar to thank for that) and hail my Uber ride. Dreading stepping outside into the heat again, I watched my driver approaching with the app on my phone until the last minute, took off my glasses this time and made my way to the street. I had plenty of time to make my flight, but my breakfast was in jeopardy and it was rush hour traffic. Luckily, the airport in Qatar is massive and there were no lines to go through immigration or security so I was able to spend about half an hour in the club having coffee, cereal and fruit prior to heading off for my gate and the last leg of my trip to Kilimanjaro.

The flight went smoothly, though my next adventure of getting my visa and going through customs was unfortunately decidedly different. Long ago, I would always send our passports to the Tanzanian embassy in Washington, D.C., where they would process our visas so we’d have them on arrival. Two years ago, though, they decided that volunteers here should have a business visa and, at that time, the embassy was unable to process these, which meant that we’d have to get them on arrival at the airport. About two weeks ago, I learned that the visa application process was now changed to online (a good thing), but I was concerned that they wouldn’t be able to process them in time for us to arrive (which I confirmed by speaking with the embassy) and so it was back to plan A, get them at the airport which I had been warned could take an excessive amount of time meaning up to two hours. My arrival to the airport confirmed this worry with incredibly long lines at the first visa window and further verified by the snail’s pace we were moving once I was in them. Needless to say, we will be doing this process online in the future. An hour and a half later, I was finally through the process and into baggage claim where, gratefully, my three duffels were still sitting.

Now came the process of going through customs. This has also changed quite drastically over the ten years I have been coming and, I will say, all for the right reasons. Customs is a means for a government to collect taxes or tariffs on goods not purchased here, thereby protecting their own economy. This makes absolute sense, but unfortunately, there are many items that are just unable to be purchased here and must be brought in. So, in the end, this is a necessary evil that shouldn’t be looked upon as anything less and is merely the government doing what any other does in as similar situation. Regardless, this took me another hour or so to get through, so all told, Pendo and Violet had been waiting outside for nearly three hours for me to get through the entire process. They had been worried sick about me as I didn’t have a working sim card yet and it wasn’t until I was in customs that I realized the airport now has a working WiFi I could use to contact them. I had arrived just before 3 PM and by the time we were in the car departing the airport, it was well after 5 PM with the sun setting in front of us.

All was well, though, as I was back in Tanzania, my other home, and with my family here. Gabby and Gabriel were waiting for me at home, both six months older than the last time I had seen them and with Gabriel now taking up a storm, but somehow only wanting to say “Michael” constantly. This is such a familiar place to me and I now move between the two cultures effortlessly. It is a wonderful feeling that has so enriched my life and I am forever grateful for that first visit here so many years ago and all those who have supported me on this journey.

What began in 2009 with as a vacation to Tanzania with my two children has now become an integral part of my life and perhaps the most important event outside of my part in creating those two amazing individuals that shared that first trip with me. It is hard to believe that I am now embarking on my twentieth trip to Tanzania, a place that I now consider my other home and where I have spent more time than any other in my adult life. That simple request made so many years ago to visit a medical clinic has changed my life and, for that, I am forever grateful. FAME, having begun only the year before my initial visit, has become my family. And so, it was with great honor in March of this year that I was asked to take on the additional role of a board member, joining an incredibly dedicated group of individuals whose responsibility it is to secure the future of this most remarkable of institutions that has become so important to the health and prosperity of a vast population of Northern Tanzania and the Karatu District specifically.

As so many of trips have begun, I am schlepping two large duffels and a camera backpack that weighs over 30 pounds. I know this about my backpack as they weighed it at the airport, only to tell me that it was too heavy to carry on along with the small duffel, which, by the way, tipped the scales at only 5 kilos, much of it the skittles that Sheena had given me earlier in the day not to open until arrived at my destination. The duffel contained papers that I had planned to work on during my flight and, as part of my final negotiation with the supervisor at the Qatar Airways counter, I had to hand over the duffel while being allowed to carry on my camera backpack intact. To be totally fair, though, it was all my fault. I had misread the luggage maximum that came with my newly acquired Silver Privilege Club membership level which specifically did not include flights from the US or Brazil, which now meant that each bag was 10 kg over. Thankfully, they took pity on me and didn’t charge me what they could have for the overweight bags and the extra duffel. Still, it meant that I was flying without the work that I had planned to bring on board with me and necessitated watching most of the second season of Westworld which would have made much more sense if I had seen the first season. Being the Sci Fi nut that I am, though, it was still quite entertaining.

The flight departed at 9:15 PM from Philadelphia and we arrived on time in Doha at about 4 PM. I made it through immigration and was on my way to my marketplace hotel in Doha in no time. It was only 100 degrees in Doha at 5 PM and the temperature never really dropped much from there overnight. The drive in the taxi was mostly nondescript other than the fact that Doha must have the absolute longest traffic lights in the world. We literally sat for over 5 minutes at one just to make a left turn before arriving at another similarly lengthy light a block later. Thankfully, the taxi fare seemed to based solely on the distance as I was watching the meter during the stops and it didn’t budge. My Uber ride (yes, there’s Uber in Middle East as the residents taught last March) the following day went smoother, but it was so incredibly steamy walking out of the hotel lobby, I was unable to wear my glasses waiting for it. The heat here is dramatic with temperatures of nearly 100 and over the entire 24 hours and “real feel” temps approaching 115 most of the time.

As I had covered last trip, the Doha market place, or Souq Waqif, is a simply magical place that can be best described as a cross between watching Disney’s dAladdin and Casa Blanca. It is a maze of small alleyways, each with its own category of shops, that have exit signs located everywhere otherwise you would never be able to find your way out. There’s the fabric center, the perfume center, the pet center (with thousands of squawking birds), kitchen and restaurant supplies center, and the sweets and spices center, perhaps my favorite. This is not a tourist center as all of the locals come to shop here and, as such, there are plenty of locals restaurants. Though I had walked around for hours last March, I soon found that there was much more to this place than one can find on their own by simply roaming the alleyways. When I checked into my hotel, they had mentioned that there would be a walking tour of the market later that evening at 8 PM and, thankfully, I didn’t blow it off thinking it was some touristy thing to do and, therefore, probably not worthwhile.

After stopping in one of the shops for some dates (I was starving and hadn’t planned to eat dinner until after the tour), where I was able to sample to my heart’s, or perhaps stomach’s, desire, I headed back to the hotel to wait for tour to organize. The hotel that I was staying in, the Hotel Najid, is one of the Souq Waqif Boutique Hotels, a cluster of hotels that are all within the marketplace and run by Tivoli, an international hotel chain. Qatar Airways, owned by the government, of course, promotes tourism in their country by making available hotel rooms for a steal ($23 US for a 5-star hotel!) for those guests who have to overnight in Doha. I was driven in a golf cart as the only passenger to another of their hotels on the other side of the marketplace, which was welcome relief given the incredible heat even at 8 PM. There were only two others waiting for the tour, a lovely couple from Australia, Sue and Michael, so when we were all together we met with Abubakar, who would be our guide for the night. Abubakar, who is from Zanzibar and of Omani descent, had arrived here 8 years ago while participating in an internship, and had decided to make the city his new home.

After a brief discussion on how you can easily where someone is from in the middle east by how they are dressed (collar or no collar, length of their thobe, length of the tie around their neck, etc.), we departed on our walking tour of the marketplace and its environs. As you might imagine, Qatar is a very wealthy Arab country whose residents enjoy a great many social luxuries at the government’s expense. Of course, exactly what percentage of the population has access to these was not entirely clear, but leave it to say that the standard of living here is likely quite high here as it is in most of the oil-rich Middle East. Our first stop was to visit the royal camels on the outskirts of the marketplace. Those who know me are well-aware of my love of animals of any sort and the camels were no different for me, though I must say that they were just a bit intimidating to stand next to, given their size and somewhat nasty disposition. As we were standing their talking, though, a small stray cat wandered at the feet of a camel who had just been quite threatening to me, yet the cat seemed as comfortable as with one of its littermates as the camel bent forward to nuzzle him.

We took a short walk from the camels to visit a stable that housed the Arabian horses owned and ridden by the royal family. These horses were absolutely gorgeous and distinguished in their rather plain looking stables compared to what I’ve seen in the US on those rare occasions that I’ve visited one. Having lived for a time in Albemarle County, Virginia, and visiting a few farms here and there, though, compared to the simple white-washed plaster walls standing before us one wouldn’t have picked them out for what they were. The horses, of course, were so magnificent that it really didn’t matter where they were as they were just regal at their mere presence. We spent quite some time with them as Abubakar informed us that if he didn’t visit certain ones, they would become jealous. It was clear that these horses knew him from his nightly visits during these tours and each horse seemed to brighten up when they heard his voice. The Arabian is an amazing and intelligent animal.

As many are aware, falconry is very popular among the wealthy of many Arab countries and Qatar is no different in that regard. There is a falcon center in the marketplace and we stopped to visit one of the shops that sells falcons for this purpose. Entering the shop, there are dozens of falcons perched on rows of green Astro turf, each with its own unique leather hood. We watched some young boys while they tended to some of the birds and it was clear that they were from well-to-do families whose fathers were among those participating in this sport. As we walked upstairs, there were dozens more birds along with the gentleman who owned them all, a breeder whose farm is in Spain but is French himself. He breeds the birds and imports them to Qatar where they sell for one-thousand dollars and up. Abubakar told us that the most money paid for a falcon was something like one-hundred-million dollars, though the best I could find on the internet was something approximating $400,000 in 2016. Regardless, It’s clearly an expensive hobby and probably something akin to horseracing and polo in regard to the cost to participate in the sport. We also stopped by a falcon hospital where people can bring their birds who may need some care. There were a dozen or so pedestals topped with Astroturf on each side of the lobby for the birds to sit on while they waiting to be seen on each side of the lobby.

As we walked through the almost magical alleyways, we came upon what Abubakar told us was a “men’s sitting area,” which is a place for men to sit and relax, have some tea or Arabic coffee (rather weak coffee with milk) and snacks of dates and nuts. They are very nice and quiet places and there seemed to be absolutely no issue with Sue joining us inside to participate in the visit. In the first such place we visited, there were two gentleman relaxing who were deaf and mute and they welcomed us in without hesitation and seemed quite pleased to share their space with us. They insisted that we have coffee (served by a young man who is essentially a barista there) and share their dates with them. There is no cost for anything as it is all provided by the Qatari government. We said our goodbyes and wandered down some more alleyways until we came upon another much larger “club” where among the many men sitting inside were two older gentleman that Abubakar was friends with and he promptly introduced us to them. They were perhaps half a dozen game boards for a game that resembled checkers and both of the men were sitting at separate boards relaxing. We soon discovered that the game is called Dama and is a traditional Qatari board game that has been around for many, many years. In very short time, Sue was taking on one of the gentleman at a game which was very brave considering that she had no idea of how to play it at the outset. Abubakar sat down to play the other gentleman in a friendly game and introduced him to us as one of the current ministers of the Qatari government. Both of the men (the other by the way was a pilot and had worked with NASA sometime in the 1960s or 1970s) were intense Dama players and it was so much fun to just sit and watch them contemplate the game. Abubakar, by the way, was certainly holding his own, but it was quite clear to me who was the master and who was the student this night. We drank both tea and coffee and I learned very quickly not to ever hand you cup back to the server for that meant that you wanted more. You either left it sitting on the table or very clearly indicated that you were finished as doing otherwise would land you a bottomless cup of either drink.

We finally said our goodbyes and ended our tour with Abubakar at the restaurant where I had planned to have dinner as I had spotted it last March only after having already eaten dinner. Luckily, I had dropped a pin on my map and forwarded it to the residents for dinner the following night and they raved about it. Sue and Michael hadn’t yet made any exchange for Qatari Riyals, so I offered to buy them dinner and after we were served, it was very clear that all the hype was well deserved. We had lamb, beef and chicken kabobs, humus, yogurt with cucumber and garlic yogurt and everything was quite delicious. The entire bill for the three of us was a whopping 75 Riyals with tip, or about $18. We parted after dinner as they were staying in one of the other Souq Waqif Boutique hotels and I took a slow and circuitous route back to my hotel so as to explore just a bit more before calling it a night.

My room was very nice, though did not have a window to the outside which really didn’t matter as I hadn’t planned to spend much time there. I had thought about asking for a room with a view, but I figured for $23 I really couldn’t be too demanding. It reminded of recently when Anna and I were staying at the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite due an apparent last minute cancellation and when I asked for a nicer room with a view, the desk clerk responded with, “Mr. Rubenstein, our rooms are booked based on the time of booking and most of our reservations are made a year in advance.” No matter as our room there had a lovely view of the rear grounds and steep cliffs beyond and I was sure I could imagine anything much nicer. The room at the Najid was quite nice and more than worth the $23 I had paid for it. Trust me, the Ahwahnee with all its splendor and history was orders of magnitude more expensive though well worth the price of admission. I sat down to write, but very quickly realized just how exhausted I was having left the evening before from Philadelphia and having had very little shuteye on the plane. I laid my head on the pillow and before I knew what had hit me, I was very soundly asleep. My flight the following morning was departing at 8:45 AM and I had wanted to hit the airport club in the morning for a light breakfast before my flight.