My Abu Dhabi Nemesis
I’m back in the UAE and reunited with all the nemeses I developed during year one of living in the Middle East. The heat is by far my biggest and most brutal enemy, but next in line comes an unlikely contender.
The parking garage.
Abu Dhabi has been suffering a parking crisis for years. It’s possible to drive around the streets for hours – yes, HOURS – in search of a parking spot. When I first moved here, I had to trek downtown for various missions in my visa-getting process. The first step, having a professional picture taken, was abandoned after I drove our Toyota around the same city block for close to thirty minutes without ascertaining a spot. Lesson learned, and two hours of my afternoon wasted, I returned to the studio the next day in a taxi.
The city has been tackling this issue by building parking garages. Many of them have been constructed underground. They’re massive. The one below our apartment encompasses the entire man-made island we live on and is two floors, upper basement and lower basement. Comprised of only one-way lanes, it’s a five-minute commute from our car’s permanent place to the road outside, all the while navigating tight, narrow turns and a slew of delivery trucks, workers with portable car wash systems, the plethora of motorbikes bringing residents food, and drivers who ignore which direction to move in.
It’s madness.
Not only is our lot chaotic, but it’s also devoid of fresh and flowing air, making it even more stifling than outside and giving some extra oomph to the constant stench of garbage.
The parking garages beneath malls, hospitals, and tourist areas are more colossal and can be five times the size of Al Bandar’s (our island). It’s imperative to take note of your parking spot’s corresponding letter and number, otherwise you may end up recreating that episode of Seinfeld. Even better, take a picture of it.
Sometimes, in my case, that doesn’t work. Exiting a different door than the one I came in disorients me. If it wasn’t for a kind and directionally savvy employee who pointed out my spot’s direction (thank goodness I had that picture), I’d still be in the caverns of Cleveland Clinic trying to locate my vehicle following a visit with my allergist last spring.
I had to have blood drawn today, my third morning of jet lag. It roused me awake at 4 AM and my food fast meant no coffee for me before dealing with that most formidable of subterranean black holes. Driving into the depths beneath Cleveland Clinic, an excess of attendants holding LED wands waved my SUV through the many rows as if they were guiding an aircraft. I prepared my eyes and brain for all the possible parking situations, noting the turns I took, the signs posted to the walls.
But the early hour (7 AM) proved a boon and one of the parking pipers guided me to a unicorn. A spot right around the corner from one of the clinic entrances.
How lucky was I?
Only I entered the clinic via an unfamiliar door. What I saved in time locating my car after my appointment was spent finding my way to the lab inside the monstrous building. But I would much rather wander the bright and air-conditioned hospital halls than the lot’s dim and humid concrete corridors. And to me, that counts as a win.
Stay tuned for year two’s final score. It’s just getting started.
Rachael – 1 Parking Garage – 0
