Kuwait and Nigeria

Spent a few days in Kuwait which is just like any other gulf city only a little more decrepit, not as shiny and new as some, maybe due to the fact that I arrived during the back end of a four day sandstorm. First couple of days I could not see much beyond a few hundred yards of the hotel, but on the last morning there it was clear and the city stretched for miles.

Arrived in Lagos to the usual chaos of third world airports. We were pulled out of line for immigration by a uniform with a sheet of paper with the other guys names on, so I just tagged along thinking it would be quicker. Sent to the front of the queue and processed by the first immigration official who found my visa with CANCELLED stamped over it. This wasn't right as it wasn't like that when I checked it when my passport came back from the embassy in Kuwait. Turned out that this visa was for a single visit and had been cancelled because I had been issued with another 12 month multi entry visa. Was a bit worried when this big official kept pointing at the cancelled stamp and staring at me with hostility in his eyes. I had visions of spending time in custody waiting for a flight back to Kuwait. Fortunatly the project manager travelling with me knew there were two visas in my passport and the problem was averted. After this we had to line up again for the second round of immigration. This involved a woman checking the first guys work and entering the details into a computer and then passing my passport to a third guy so he could give me an entry stamp. After bitching about how he didn't like the stamp he finally did his job and I was in the country.

Why the rush to get us to the fron of the queue at imigration I do not know as we had to wait for another hour for out bags. They cane onto the baggage belt in two's and three's. We speculated that there were only two guys emptying the hold by hand and carrying the bags from the plane to the terminal. Either that or they were bored and trying to drag out the job to fill their day, kind of like council workers.

Once we were through the rest of the airport security, which consisted of checking baggage against the tags given to us when we checked in in Kuwait to ensure that we had our own luggage and nothing stoled from the carousel, we were met by our personal security. This consisted of a couple of wide boys who were there to get us through the police barriers keeping back the hawkers and general melee of people who hang around airports in all third world countries trying to shake down any unsuspecting mark. We were escorted to our vehicles and headed off to Victoria Island with a police escort, sirens wailing, horns blaring, the lot. Seem a daft way to transport foreigners securely - by announcing their presence - but we arrived at the hotel so it worked.

On arrival at the hotel I was not totally suprised to find that it was overbooked and I had to be farmed out to another place nearby. The new place was a cheap and nasty guest house who's owner saw a white face and immediatly tripled the price. When he asked for 22,750 Niras, I assumed there were around 1000 to the pound.... wrong, there are only about 250 to the pound which made the romm including taxes come out at over £100 pound for the night. I noticed in the booking ledger that other rooms going to people with local names cost a third of the price around 8,000 Niras. Welcome to the capital third world rip off countries.

3 views of a £100 room Nigerian style.

Had dinner with the other guys at the Scarlet Lodge, where I was supposed to stay and found that everything is overpriced, must be a notional passtime to rip-off everybody you can.

In the morning I moved to the Scarlet Lodge which is 'only' $120/night for a room without breakfast, which cost around £10 for a bit of scrambled egg and a cup of tea.

Back to work

Well after waiting a few weeks for a contract to be produced I am off on another wander around the globe, this time to Kuwait and Nigeria, two new countries for me.

As usual the people who want me to work for them keep hanging about until the last minute and then expect you to drop everything and run. After 2 weeks of waiting for a contract they produced one on Monday and expected me to be in Kuwait the next day.... have these people never heard of booking flights, hire cars etc... it's not easy getting out of Cornwall in a hurry. In the end I travelled on Friday. Could not get a taxi to Truro as all the local ones seem to be on 'school runs' or sleeping in the afternoons. Had to catch a bus from Cury to Truro to pick up a rental car. Only made contact with the emploters on Friday morning regarding where in Kuwait I had to go as I was arriving at 06:30 and did not want to be left stranded at the airport. Was told what hotel I was booked in and that someone would be there to meet me.

All went fine, no trouble on the roads and even the guy at the bag drop counter was helpful in telling me that I could change my seat to one in the exit row as there were lots available but he could not do it from his terminal but I had to change my seat once I had gone through security. LYING BASTARD......there were no spare seats in the exit row, why the little scots c**t told me that I don't know...maybe it's genetic!!!!!

Flight was uneventful enough except that BA seem to thing diabetics have no taste buds as they keep serving up bland shit meals. With the delightful aroma of shepards pie wafting through the cabin I get served cous-cous with FRIED tomatoes, how this is classed a diabetic meal I have no idea. Maybe BA should employ a diabetic to write their menu's. To top it off breakfast was a CHEESE roll,. Fried food and cheese were the first things the dietician told me to avoid.

Arrived tired after an overnight and after going through the amazingly incompetent visa aplication procedure I found that there was no-one from the hotel to meet me. Had to buy a local SIM card as vodafone for some reason had blocked me rom using my UK SIM. Their loss.
Called the local contact and found that they had changed the hotel without letting me know. Whole project seems loused up even before the start.

Seems that I am only here to get a visa for Nigeria as there is no-one else to discuss the project with. Why the rush, must be the old hurry up and wait syndrome.

Wembley

Last weekend I took my son to the new Wembley Stadium. The reason was to see Truro City play in the FA Vase final. Travelled up to London on the Saturday and had a night out with my big Dutch mate in Sudbury. You can catch his travels on his blog http://greyhound10.blogspot.com/

Anyway the new place is pretty good for a football stadium but I was expecting something a bit special for 750 million. All clean, shiney and new, lots of food outlets with nobody much buying anything because of the extortionalt costs of everything. £3.50 for chips, £5.00 for a burger and £8.50 for fish and chips. Took ages to find a programme as there waer no sellers of anything outside and I could only find 2 stalls selling them inside which were located adjacent to each other.


The only thing outside is the 20 foot statue of Bobby Moore.

Inside the stadium did not seem as big as I expected, it holds 90,000 people but seems smaller than the old place possibly due to the seating coming right to the pitch without the running track between the crowd and the playing surface.



I was a good dayout with Truro lifting the trophy to complete a treble of FA Vase, League champions and Cornwall Senior Cup.

The Den

Last weekend I went to London the city of my birth. I incorporated a trip to the dentist as well as a visit to the last home game of the season at the Den to see Millwall beat Bristol City.

After having my teeth cleaned after the annual checkup I took a walk around Lewisham, which hasn't changed much since I was a kid, except the road layout and the market stalls now sell yams as well as traditional veg. Sign of a multi-cultural society?

Spent the afternoon sitting in the park, Manor House Gardens to give it its full title. I spent most of my formative years in this park as I had to go through it to get to primary school, and everybody I knew as a child used to hang out there. Seeing all the little kids playing there took me back to my youth and some of the escapades. I remember when I was at the primary school we had to wear caps and blazers as well as short trousers and ties. One day a lad called Sean threw my friend Joe's cap into the duck pond, why I am not sure and didn't really care as we picked him up and threw him in to retrieve it. Later that evening Sean's mum went round to see Joe's dad to complain about Sean's dunking. When Big Joe found out that we had thrown Sean in to fetch little Joe's cap he told couldn't see a problem and told Sean's mum to go away. Over the years nearly everyone was thrown into the pond at one time or another. I was never actually physicall thrown in but jumped in on many occasions during the long hot summers of yesteryear, especially the summer of '76 which was spent almost entirely in the park. Lazy hot summer days hanging around on the grassy hill until being chucked out at closing time then waiting for the parkie to lock up and leave we would then climb the fence and hang out there for the night. At least it kept me off the streets.

Saturday was my first visit of the season to the Den to watch Millwall. Living in Cornwall and working all over the world I do not get there as much as I would like but try to get there at least once a season. After a few seasons of turmoil the club seems to have turned itself around and the future looks bright after an investment from an American and a property tycoon from the Isla of Man. The team looked good for a third division outfit and with a couple of new players in the summer we should challenge for promoyion next season. As for the game it was a typical end of season fare although Bristol City were looking to gain promotion they did not seem to want it enough and were easily contained with Millwall nicking the winner 10 mins from time.