The apartment complex is surrounded by others, each with their own peculiar architectural markings, a spa and sport complex at the 5th floor, inside, and two pools (wading and lap) on the outside. I felt very exposed in my very decent black bathing suit that was quite a contrast to the barely clad young women sunning themselves in on lounges.
Across the marina is a half-completed skyscraper that looks like the crooked house of the crooked woman on crooked lane. We are deeply into fantasy land, or, as someone explained it, architectural practicum 101.
We were invited to join our friends at a birthday party for Chuck’s sister in law who lives here with her husband/his brother at the top of the rotating Hyatt Regency. In about one hour our views had circled the city and we were back where we started except for our full, very full, bellies. I usually don’t go for seconds but the buffet was too elaborate to limit to a single visit.
Everyone is taking a nap now, recovering from lunch. It is dark and Dubai and Sharjah are flickering near and far. When the temperature falls below 25 everyone comes out and celebrates the good life. I suspect that it is here that the taste for money, a lot of money, is acquired because there is much to spend it on and there is never enough. I wonder how much of the real estate we are seeing is owned by Afghan warlords and poppy growers, and how much of that are my tax dollars at work.
Sylvia's Journal 
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