Lazy Monkey Chocolate

Usually it’s my brother Jim who asks me about my favorite meals on a trip, and he might yet, but this time Lilly did first. I had to think about it. There were a good many good meals along the way, but the best was hard to pin down. As for my favorite food, I knew at once: Lazy Monkey Pistachio & Kunafa Chocolate, which I bought at Emirates Cooperative Society, a mid-sized Dubai grocery store near my hotel, where I sourced a number of meals.

Lazy Monkey is a product of the UAE, though using Belgian chocolate. One might think of oil and tourism when it comes to the UAE economy, and one would be right, but food processing is part of the mix.

As for the selection at the grocery store, UAE products were an important component, but I also saw or bought items from Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, Kuwait, India and other Middle East or Indian Ocean places. The Lebanese bread in bags was soft and just chewy enough, and a good platform of peanut butter made in India and hummus made in Jordan. For its part, Saudi Arabia produces good chocolate too, some of which I tried, but carelessly didn’t make note of any names.

Anyway, Lazy Monkey was better. The chocolate itself was excellent, raised to wonderful by the generous pistachio filling, and then to extraordinary by the slightly crunchy texture. That might have been the pistachio, but there’s also the matter of kunafa, which I had to look up. There are many variations around the Middle East, with a basis of crispy dough, cheese and syrup.

Even better, Lazy Monkey is available only in the UAE, even if you order it on line – which, at 29 dirhams, is much more expensive than at the store – though the web site promises it will be exported to other members of the Gulf Cooperation Council before long. You can’t find it on Amazon, which has other kinds of UAE pistachio chocolate confections available at similarly high prices.

All that adds to Lazy Monkey’s after-the-trip appeal, the sort everyday exoticism that Ritter Sport had when it wasn’t sold in the United States, or for that matter, Ghirardelli had when it wasn’t available everywhere from Podunk Hollow to East Jesus.

Palm Monorail, Dubai

What was the monorail pitch like, for the line that now runs along the trunk of the Palm Jumeirah in Dubai? The Palm Monorail, it’s called.

Well, sir, there’s nothing on Earth like a genuine, bona fide, electrified, six-car monorail!

What’d I say?

Monorail!

What’s it called?

Monorail!

That’s right!

Monorail!

There probably wasn’t that much singing, or that much English, but whatever happened, the line has been up and running for about a decade and a half now. A go-to source (Wiki) tells me that it is the only monorail in the Middle East, which if true ought to spur the likes of Saudi Arabia into some monorail development, maybe in lieu of grander projects.Palm Monorail Palm Monorail

Sleek styling, as monorails ought to have, built by Hitachi Rail. Driverless.

I rode its entire 3.4-mile length and back on March 2, as part of my excursion to Palm Jumeirah. Levity aside, I can report a wholly positive experience. The ride didn’t cost much, the wait wasn’t long, the cars were busy but not packed, and the vantage offered some terrific views of the artificial islands that comprise Palm Jumeirah – the trunk and fronds, as they’re called, and their linear neighborhoods spreading out, always along the ocean.

I also wonder whether the monorail was an important enough component of the overall Palm Jumeirah project for decision-makers toward the very top – even the emir himself – to focus on it. Hard to say, since Palm Jumeirah was an epic project that involved creating a palm-shaped island with seven miles of coastline from 120 million cubic meters of sand and other material dredged from the sea, along with mountain rocks, putting a breakwater mostly around it, plus adding roads, bridges, utility networks and sundry infrastructure.

What set all that in motion was the pronouncement, “So let it be written, so let it be done.”

What’s one monorail in all that?Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

First stop, Nakeel Mall, named for the company that developed the Palm Jumeirah. Large enough, but nothing on the order of Dubai Mall, except for the high count of carriage-trade stores. The mall also provided access, down an outdoor staircase, to Al Ittihad Park, which runs part of the length of the trunk under the monorail.Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

Two walking-jogging trails run the length of the park as well. I walked.Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

The park is hemmed in by sizable structures on each side whose first floor (ground floor) is populated by high-end service providers, such as Petsville Palm Jumeirah, The Blowout Bar, The Golden Mile Gallery, Bedashing Beauty Lounge, and KIBERone IT school for children.

There were a fair number of benches for idlers and old men, but not a lot of occupants. I accessed a bench and for a little while watched a steady trickle of people walking the path, and mothers (or nannies) with young children visiting the playgrounds. Foliage blocked part of the sun, which was borderline intense that day.Palm Jumeirah

Quite the place, this neighborhood: created out of nothing not long ago, then Money was invited to live here. Money from wherever. And so it has, with an estimated population of about 25,000 out on the trunk and fronds.

You can speculate about some soggy future for such low-lying territory, but for now, it’s prime real estate. That means that engineers, who are paid to do so, are thinking about upgrades. I can’t pretend any knowledge of hydrology, so for all I know, their efforts will match those of King Cnut, but the abstract makes for interesting reading.

The end of the line for the monorail is at the tip of the Palm. A district of resorts, hotels and more upscale shopping.Palm Jumeirah
Palm JumeirahA short walk takes you from the station to a seaside path within sight of the storied Persian Gulf.Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

Very storied. Going back at least to Sumer, up the coast a long way, but still on the shore of this sea.

Dubai Mall

How far is it to the Metro station? I mean, to walk?” I asked the clerk at my hotel in Dubai, a property not far from the airport that I had picked for that reason, and because it was supposedly close to a Metro station. Like many places, that is what Dubai calls its part elevated-part subway system. My maps had given me some clue about the walking distance, but it’s good to check with someone who might have personal knowledge.

Or not. “Five minutes,” she said, offering a standard answer. That actually wasn’t too far off in the grand scheme even of a single day, since the walk took about 10 minutes. In late February, that difference doesn’t make much difference, but I bet it does during the hotter months. Beginning soon, maybe?

I had a hankering to get around Dubai by Metro. So each time I rode the system, I first did the 10-minute walk along a moderately busy street, part of whose traffic was Emirates employees arriving at work, since the airline’s HQ is nearby. Coming to Dubai, I flew Emirates for the first time. It has a solid reputation among travelers, or at least did the last time I thought about it, but in any case I can report that the Airbus flight was good, including a number of small amenities (such as nice snacks), though inevitably legroom was a little short for a six-foot fellow such as myself. The flight attendant uniforms are pretty spiffy, though.

Travel on the Metro involves a Nol card. Once I found the right machine at the station, those were easy to buy and not particularly expensive. Nol, I understand, means “card” in Arabic, so what I acquired from the machine was a Card card good unlimited rides for 24 hours, total cost about $6, which one pays in UAE dirhams.

During my transit excursions, I had to make sure not to board the gold car – a single car upfront at a higher price – nor the women-and-children only cars on the rush hour trains. I almost boarded one of the latter, but I realized my mistake before I did. Not sure whether doing so would have merely been embarrassing, or whether transit cops would have shown up for a mandatory chat in a place that has no Fifth Amendment.

Everything about the Dubai Metro was easy. The only way it would have been more frictionless would have been no charge at all, which isn’t going to happen. As a relatively new system, built by a consortium of mostly Japanese companies and only in operation since 2009, the cars are clean and new, the signage (Arabic and English) is fairly clear, and I never had to wait long for a train.

On the other hand, most of my travels on the longest of the two lines, the Red Line, involved crowds as thick as any you’d see in rush hour New York or London or Tokyo. As diverse, too, though more heavily skewed toward South Asia, where most of the UAE’s non-citizen residents come from. A fair number of tourists packed in the cars as well, many of whom were from Europe, but probably also India – to judge by the flight from Delhi, Indians who can afford it take holidays Dubai. Another detail hints at large numbers of Indian visitors: my hotel room toilet came equipped with a spray nozzle.

After a few rides on the Red Line, I noticed that the crowd wasn’t quite like any other transit crowd in one way. Until the last few stations on the line, few people actually got off. People would get on and never seem to leave, station after station. I had time to reflect on that more than once as I stood for about 15 stations, waiting for someone to leave a seat. (I don’t look old enough for anyone to offer one, though I feel that way sometimes.)

In most subways, unless it’s absolute peak rush hour, there will be turnover from station to station. But not much in Dubai, at least according to my small sample.

Later I thought of a possible reason. Though there are two lines (and eventually will be a third), the Red Line is the main one across miles of the city, roughly paralleling the coastline. I can’t imagine that most low- and mid-level workers live that near their places of work, and so the Red Line forms one link in their commute, which also includes buses on one or both ends.

One exception was the Burj Khalifa/Dubai Mall station. A lot of people got off there. They were going to the mall. I did too. I’d read about the mall, known as one of the larger ones in the world, and one of the posher. I also knew that, for the last three decades or so, malls have been developed all over the world, including in places where they are big new hits, such as in China, Southeast Asia, India, Saudi Arabia and other places (Dubai, for instance), and not relics of a more expansive time, like they might be North America. So I figured it was worth seeing.

I noticed on the map that an elevated walkway goes from the station to the mall. I didn’t think about how long it might be. Soon I found out. One source says half a mile. Having walked it more than once, I believe it. Moving walkways made things a little easier, but the first time you go through, each section of the walkway makes you wonder how many more there will be. Close to the mall itself, but not in the mall, you go through a  passageway lined with snack shops and souvenir stores. Leaving, I found my entire supply of Dubai postcards at one of the latter, including stamps. International postcard rate: 3 dirhams. US 82 cents, not bad.

Before long you reach the entrance to the mall. I should have paid closer attention at that moment. Actually, I thought I did. But no: it would take a while for me to find that passage again, and my exit from the mall.

I spent maybe three hours wandering around the mall, unusual behavior for me. But part of the time I was lost. Not lost in the sense of they’ll find my bones somewhere, but rather disoriented for stretches of time. I expect the design encourages just such a reaction.

There are four full shopping floors and not a lot of right angles, and a sort-of oval shape overall, with extra branches snaking off in various directions (this is just the ground floor). Wayfinding isn’t bad, but the endless distractions in the stores and among the people passing by make it easy to miss an important directional sign. Most importantly: the place is huge.

Measured by gross leasable area – at 4.3 million square feet – Dubai Mall is the seventh largest in the world, according to Luxe Digital in 2024, though its floor area is 12 million square feet. That is, for every square foot of retail space, there are nearly two square feet of everything else. There is a lot of everything else: sweeping common areas, all bright and immaculate, a gargantuan aquarium, an ice-skating rink, the entrance to the Burj Khalifa observation decks, possibly two food courts, a thing called KidZania and naturally a multiplex cinema. And more. That could be the property’s informal motto: There’s Always More!

As for the stores, there are about 1,200 of them, many familiar (indeed, U.S. and European), others less so (Middle Eastern, South and East Asian, and some of the Euro-brands). Every upmarket brand you’ve ever heard of is going to be there, and then some. Many cluster in a section of mall called Fashion Avenue, which is big enough to be a standalone shopping center. Mid-market retailers seem to thrive in the mall as well, though some of the more everyday sorts of stores, such as a large grocery store, are to be found at the lowest level. There is an entire section of the mall called Chinatown, sporting Chinese retailers and restaurants and décor. Nice use of lanterns and neon. Also, supposedly you can play various sports on the roof of Dubai Mall. I didn’t look into that.

The mall was busy, and just as multicultural as the subway or the rest of Dubai. Signs tended to be in four languages: Arabic, since this is an Arab country, English for almost everyone else, plus Hindi and Russian, which must represent two large shopper blocs. It’s only three-and-a-half hour flight from Delhi, probably the same from Bangalore and certainly less from Bombay. As for Russia, much of Europe is off limits these days, but the UAE apparently isn’t; and maybe some Russians with the wherewithal are sitting things out in Dubai. Just speculating about that.

Slightly detached from the mall is the Souk Al Bahar, another 100 stores and a posh place indeed, done in “Arabesque” style (the mall’s term). It wasn’t nearly as crowded as the main mall, but I expect people who do go there are probably prepared to spend some serious dirhams. Me, I was just looking around, and as usual looking for a restroom. Time Out Dubai is in the souk as well, its restaurants tucked in a warren-like area, and so giving off a different vibe from the high-ceiling space occupied by Time Out Lisboa, though I’m sure the food is just as good.

Next to the mall and the souk is an enormous artificial pond, home to Dubai Fountain, which pushes water as high as 500 feet into the air periodically, with water jets choreographed to music and, at night, colorful lights. I didn’t know this before: It is a WET design – the same company, WET, that did the Bellagio fountain in Las Vegas and a lot of other fountains in a lot of other places.

Not long after noon, I surveyed lunch options at the end of the mall I happened to be, which was near the souk and the fountain. One option that had seating outside, within view of the fountain, was Five Guys. So lunch was al fresco that day, February 26, a serving of Five Guys fries and a drink, which is definitely enough. As I enjoyed my taters, some of sort of rousing Middle Eastern tune struck up, and the water show began. Nice work, WET.

I wasn’t lost all the time. Much of my visit was pure wander: a peek at store after store, level after level, up and down escalators, and looking for a restroom (one I visited twice was marble-and-mirror swanky, with more than one attendant in coat and tie, none of whom asked a tip, unlike India). I also passed by most property’s entertainment features, with none more impressive than the aquarium, even for those who don’t pay to go in. Officially, it is the Dubai Aquarium & Underwater Zoo. Shoppers just wandering through the mall can see one wall of the aquarium.

Dive into an amazing aquatic world at Dubai Aquarium & Underwater Zoo — home to thousands of aquatic animals, over 140 marine species and a 270-degree walk-through tunnel,” says the mall’s web site, “Located within Dubai Mall, Dubai Aquarium & Underwater Zoo features a 10-litre tank [sic] containing more than 400 Sharks and Rays, including Sand Tiger Sharks, Giant Groupers and a wide array of amazing marine life.”

I’m sure that was a simple typo, but the absurdity of fitting all those sea creatures into 10 liters makes me smile. The actual size would be 10 million liters, a number I can believe, now that I’ve stood next to the two-story wall of glass holding all that water in. The sight is magnificent: enormous swirls of undersea life, schools and large fish and sharks in motion, as colorful as can be, and an attentive collection of shoppers, kids and adults, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

By about 3 pm, my energy was at a low ebb, so I made my way to Reel Cinema, the multiplex, to find a place to sit for a couple of hours. That is how I came to see Captain America: Brave New World in a nearly empty theater near the shores of the Persian Gulf. (There were a few boys in a row behind me: the intended audience.) The movie was the only one I didn’t mind seeing, at a starting time that wasn’t too far in the future. I suppose I could have taken in a Bollywood offering, just for the novelty of it, but I wasn’t feeling it.

The only modern Captain America movie I saw before was – something or other, but it was actually set in the 1940s. That’s the Captain America I know, vaguely. He fights Nazis. Brave New World has a now-ish setting and someone else is Captain America (both the actor and the character) and the villain is someone or other out for revenge for some reason or other. My interest in this particular franchise, and pretty much all of the “Marvel Cinematic Universe,” is fairly low. As in, next to nothing. The characters discussed, from time to time, things that had happened in previous movies, but I couldn’t get interested in that, either.

Still, the movie was fun to watch sometimes, such as the mano-a-mano fight scenes or the brisk violations of the laws of physics, or, come to think of it, the biological impossibility of Harrison Ford morphing into a red Hulk. (Hulks get to be different colors, like kryptonite?) Bonus extra for watching the movie in the UAE: Arabic subtitles. That, I think, was a first for me.

The Burj Khalifa

If it weren’t too much trouble, I’d rummage through my paper archives – paper agglomeration – and dig up a roundtable interview I did in the early 2000s for the magazine I edited at the time. A number of local, meaning Chicago, architects gathered in a meeting room and I recorded their conversation, publishing an edited version. One of the participants was Adrian Smith.

That came to mind in the shadow of the Buji Khalifa in Dubai on the last day of February.Burj Kalifa Burj Kalifa Burj Kalifa

As an architect with HOK, Smith designed the Burj Khalifa (burj = tower). One day I will dig up the interview, to see whether he mentioned it. I’m not sure of the timing, but HOK might have been in discussions for the commission at that very moment, since construction started in 2004. Regardless, quite a thing. A signal achievement for Smith, whatever you think of very tall buildings, and not just for its height, but for its elegant stacking effect.

Dubai is eager to point out that the Buji Khalifa is currently the tallest manmade structure in the world (2,722 feet), taller than any poser in East Asia or obscure TV tower in North Dakota or behind the former Iron Curtain. For casual visitors, two observation decks are advertised, and no doubt there are even more expensive, unadvertised options, including for the rarefied few, going to the very top.

The ordinary tourist deck is at a lower level (floors 124-125) than the one at a significant premium (floor 148), which offers welcome refreshments (coffee and dates), access to a lounge and – mostly importantly – no waiting around in line to get in.

The Burj Khalifa is popular. You will wait in line if you pick the ordinary deck — about 45 minutes in my case — and you’ll see a spot of overselling on the way.Burj Kalifa Burj Kalifa

It wasn’t the waiting itself that was irritating, but the fact I always sensed that the elevators were going to be around the next corner, only to be wrong a half-dozen times. But I’m being churlish. All that grouchiness vanished as soon as I got on the elevator — which was a straight shot up to the deck, no changing cars necessary — and especially as soon as I reached the view.

Looking down at the Dubai Mall, and the massive nearby fountain, which erupts periodically with a height of its own.Dubai

Behind the Dubai Mall (from my vantage).

Next to the Dubai Mall.Dubai

I started losing track of directions. Dubai spreads out in a number of them.Dubai Dubai Dubai

Emaar being a major real estate developer in the region, controlled by this fellow, autocrat of Dubai.Dubai Dubai

Burj Khalifa, opened in 2010, was one of its projects, along with the Dubai Mall. To judge by how often the name Emaar appears on large buildings in Dubai, I’d guess it and legions of guest workers built most of modern Dubai as well.

Around the World ’25

At times like this, in the funk that comes after a long trip, I ask myself, did I actually do that? An odd question, maybe, but long travels have that odd effect. Somehow such a trip seems less than real. Also more than real. Those are essential features of the intoxication of the road, and hangovers follow intoxication.

Ponder this: Over roughly the last five weeks, starting on February 8, in a series of eight airplane flights, a small number of intercity train trips on either side of the Eurasian land mass (including one of the fastest trains in existence), a large number of subway, streetcar and even monorail rides, a few taxi rides, other car rides provided by friends and relatives and a hired driver, a bicycle rickshaw ride — and you haven’t lived and almost died (or at least felt that way) till you’ve taken such a conveyance in Delhi — climbing a lot of stairs and using a lot of escalators and elevators, and taking more than a few long walks, and many short walks, on sidewalks and cobblestone streets and railway station platforms, I went around the world in a westward direction, from metro Chicago to metro Chicago, by way of Japan, India, the United Arab Emirates, Germany and the Czech Republic.

All that effort for what? To see the world, of course. That and skip out of much of winter in northern Illinois.

How did I have the energy for this, here at the gates of old age? How are the logistics possible?

But it really isn’t that hard. This is the 21st century, and travel is mostly by machine, and part of a mass industry, so even old men firmly from the middle class can go. Retired and semiretired old men, who find themselves with more free time than in previous decades. Moreover, the logistics were the least of it: all you need in our time is a computer to set things up.

I’m convinced that the hard part, for many people, would be finding the will to go. Luckily I have a practically bottomless supply. My always-eager-to-go attitude toward seeing point A and then points B, C and so forth also meant I was completely persuaded that buzzing around the world was a good idea. Tired as I am now — and boy am I tired — I haven’t changed my mind, though I need to rest up a bit at the moment.

Japan: my first visit in 25+ years.Rising Sun

It felt familiar — I did live there for four years — but the passage of time also infused the place with a feeling of the unfamiliar as well, a strange combo sensation indeed.

India: A major lacuna in my travels, now just a little less so.Indian Flag

A friend who goes to India sometimes on business told me last fall, “India makes me tired.” I might not have been on business, but I ended up feeling the same way.

And yet —  a phantasmagoria unlike anything I’ve seen, especially the teeming city streets. Teem was never more an apt verb, in my experience. Yuriko came as far as India with me, after we visited Japan and her family and friends there. Then she headed back eastward to Illinois.

I went on alone from India to the UAE.UAE Flag

In an even less familiar part of the world, a city of towers somehow rises on the edge of the Arabian desert. Just that is astonishing in its own way, but there is plenty else.

Then to Germany: An old friend I hadn’t seen in a long time, since about five golden weeks in my youth. A long, long time ago: the last time I was there, there were two Germanies and two Berlins and a Wall and the Stassi and Trabbis and a firm living memory of the cataclysm only 40 years earlier.German Flag

Berlin was the focus this time, where I joined my brother Jay for the visit. We’d been kicking around the idea of traveling there together for a while, and ultimately didn’t want to wait till either of us got any older. He had not made it to Berlin in ’72.

A major side trip from Berlin was to Prague. Not quite as old a friend, but old enough.Czech Flag

Yuriko and I visited in ’94, but it was new territory for Jay, another slice of the former Astro-Hungarian Empire to go with his early ’70s visit to Vienna.

Actually, when you visit a place you haven’t seen in 40 or 30 years, it’s like you’ve never been there. I had that sensation in both Berlin and Prague. The old memories are packed away, only loosely connected to their setting any more, which has changed partly beyond recognition anyway.

Now I’m back. Unlike Phileas Fogg, I didn’t return a day earlier than I thought I did (we have a stronger awareness of the International Date Line). But I did manage to miss the no one-likes-it spring transition to daylight savings time, just another little bonus of the trip.