Travelling to Kuwait 20.05.2010

I was going on my own to Kuwait for a couple of days to visit my music-teacher friend Maureen, while Pat rested up in Doha after our energetic trip to Syria and Jordan.

To call a taxi in Doha, you ring the taxi company to book it, then just before the taxi arrives, the driver rings you, and you go down into the street to look for it, as there are no street numbers here. After “Mr Pat” received the phone call, Dan, Pat and I went down into the street, to find there were two taxis there (unlike when we were going to Damascus, when there were none.) Dan established that “my” taxi was actually the one two blocks away, not the one at the front door. What with running down the road (it’s hot remember)and loading myself and my luggage into the right taxi, I forgot to get the phone, my intended lifeline in Kuwait, from “Mr Pat”. Pat and Dan waved after the taxi, but we sped off unheeding.

There are advantages for women travelling in the Middle East. When I arrived at the airport, I was waved through security without even having my bags x-rayed, went to the “Ladies Identification” passport desk (no queue) and within 20 minutes of hopping into the taxi (minus phone) was in the extensive duty free shop where I spent some time and money. You could buy a BMW there but I refrained.

The flight took a little over an hour. I had to buy a visa when I arrived, for about AU$25. While filling in the form to apply for the visa, I had to enter my address in Kuwait. I hadn’t asked Maureen for her address, as I was meeting her at the theatre where she was in the cast of “The Gondoliers”. I couldn’t ring her (no phone, and she was on stage by then) so I wrote the only address I knew for Kuwait - “The Boy Scout Association Theatre”, Beirut Street, Hawalli, Kuwait City. That seemed to work for the visa, or perhaps no-one read it.

The address didn’t work so well for a taxi. Although I had printed out the Google map Maureen had sent me, it took six excited taxi driver and one passer by to decide where I wanted to go. I learnt later that only Kuwaiti taxi drivers were allowed to work from the airport, so they mainly go to the flash hotels, not the more out-of-the-way places. The girls I stayed with use a Filipino taxi company, who are very competent at finding their way around.

Consequently, I was very relieved to see a sign for Hawalli, and absolutely thrilled to see a large poster for The Gondoliers. It was a bit trickier to find my way into the theatre, but I made it at the end of interval, and settled down to see the second half of the show.

Sunset from the window of the plane on the way to Kuwait.