Culture shop

I am not going to lie, there isn’t oodles to do in Kuwait and it seems that the mainstays of recreational activities, falls into either eating or shopping. Now I am not complaining as these are two of my favourite things,  so last week. when the ladies that brunch managed to combine the two, I was more than happy.  As the week progressed I had been drawn into shopping true Kuwaiti style; with three contrasting experiences I realised, they were things about Kuwait I will never forget and how, after 3 years, I adjusted so quickly to the culture shop!

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Girls in the city

This week the ladies that brunch reconvened for our weekly ritual of eggs, pancakes and gossip. As our social secretary, I took it upon myself to suggest a break from the norm, try something new and venture out of our local comfort zone . Much to my delight, my fellow desert gals agreed to partake and venture into Kuwait City to trial the aptly named Breakfast Club.

We piled into the car and our designated Italian driver loaded the GPS and took a deep breath to prepare for the journey ahead. As per my previous post driving in Kuwait is questionable and as our new addition to the club put it, it’s the Wacky Races. There are no rules, biggest car wins and you do everything you can to get to your destination avoiding catastrophe. I refuse to drive here so I have great respect for those that do and our driver did a sterling job, arriving in one piece and literally applauding the tire screech to steal the last parking space available, we certainly deserved the hearty breakfast we had all come hungry to try.

Your wish is my command

Today’s post is coming from the relative comfort (my back is still limiting my every move) of a sun bed at my beach club. The weather has just turned and we are enjoying beautiful sunshine days chilling on the beach or by the pool. Now before you stop reading due to my brazen promotion of my chilled day in the sun, this post is actually going to explore the service industry of the Middle East, as I was reminded this was something I wanted to post within seconds of me setting up my towels this morning. A member of the Food & Beverage Team had eagerly made himself available to be at my beck and call during my tanning session, when I realised this was no longer a novelty gesture which blew me away, but an expected occurrence.

In the U.K. customer service seems to be a dying art and one of my pet peeves. Numerous times I’ve stood at a cash point, where the cashier has barely looked up from her conversation about her latest social escapades, to even acknowledge me, the customer. As I hand over my money for the piece of clothing that is then thrown into a bag, she still hasn’t met my rather angry gaze. It makes my blood boil and more times than not you get little or no reaction from your protests. What happened to the customer is always right and simple manners?  Ugh I can feel a rant coming on, so I’ll withdraw from this scenario.

We’re not in Kansas anymore

This week, like many others, the need for retail therapy was calling me. For the last three weeks I have been laid up with a slipped disc, so when the earliest opportunity came, where I could walk again, albeit like a 80-year-old, I jumped for joy (not physically; the back wouldn’t allow it, but in my head it was a leap of elation) at the prospect of a girls trip to the mall. There isn’t a lot to do in Kuwait, but shopping is one of them and boy do they know how to do it.

Our day started early and we headed to The Avenues, 800+ stores all set in multiple themed areas to appease every shoppers need. The escalator took us down onto the palm tree lined boulevard, a perfectly brick paved road. Parisian street lamps buffer the beautiful store fronts, as they reach up to the glass roof flooding light onto to the glistening gold temple that is Harvey Nichs. Just like Dorothy catching a glimpse of the Emerald City, I felt my heart skip a beat the possibilities that lay ahead.

Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore