So Wasta (pictured) is a girl, and she is now called Chloe, which suits her well. She seems to be settling in well, and has helped the children to settle down too. They are a lot happier I am pleased to report and have not mentioned moving back again. We probably will have to go back at Christmas to sort out the house and Max and I can guarantee that while we are they will be grumbling about not being in Abu Dhabi.
If they’re not, I will be. This weekend was amazing. We spent Friday on the beach at the Shangri-la hotel then Friday night at a jazz concert underneath the stars and last night watching Cecilia Bartoli perfor acrobatics with her voice.
She was incredible. A true diva; all bejewelled and fabulous in a pink ballgown. Her voice is incredible; powerful, sensual, seductive, just unforgettable. And she had a sense of humour. I loved her and I love the fact that here it is possible to see superstars like Cecilia whereas back home tickets would have sold out months ago.
I am going to take the girls to the ballet in December and Leo has his stage debut on the 12th. Shortly after that we head back to France, leaving Chloe with Betty who looks after us and the house. In lots of ways I am looking forward to it; I can’t wait to see our friends, my dog, Max, my shoes but I don’t think I’ll be sad to come back here.
Bea has asked me to post her blog about our day at Shangri-la, so here it is:
my blog about the shanbri-la
so i fink that the shanbri-la is very nice but when we went in the lift i said this place rocks and it does really .and after we went to the pools and we went to see the pools they had one like if it was little but it was very dyp you no .then i said im going to the big pool! and mummy said im going to the little pool !and after the pools olivia and me went to see the boats i ask someone .can we go on a boot please ?and they said yes .you will stay here for the man. so i fink that the poeple that do the boot must stay there all day and it is very hot outside but it they job.so thats what they must do all day .
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008
I think you are raising another little journalist!
Chloe is beautiful! Congratulations, she’ll make a wonderful pet!
I remember seeing Cecilia Bartoli perform in the Roman amphitheatre here where I live – magical and then when I was going out I saw her in front of me, changed from her gorgeous
gown into jeans with a rucksack on her back ducking under the
columns on her way out – alone, unassuming and anti-diva, and
the image has stayed with me. Talking of divas, we rescued a kitten off a busy road last year, so small she curled up on my shoe and now has blossomed into an attention-seeking beauty.
It feels good knowing you’ve given a better life to someone even if it’s only a cat. I’m sure yours will take the pressure off
the kids having a pet to look after so Wasta is returning the favour.
When I lived in Dubai I worked at the Dubai Offshore Sailing Club for a few weeks replacing the Manager who was on holiday. In those days the number of abandoned dogs and cats from returning expats (in the days of quaranteen) was a problem and many ended up on the beach. The cats and subsequent kittens would literally go fishing with their paws off the rocks and lived surprisingly well. Daisy, who ended up being our cat, was amongst them, only she was hopeless she couldn’t fish because she was born with club-claws and so was pathetically thin with a giant head – the super model of the cat world. A group of British children found her amusing and spent the day playing with her but none of the mothers would allow the kitten home and as I was locking up I saw how she was rejected by her feral mother. I took Daisy home, then to Zurich and then to Givrins, Switzerland where she loved the countryside and grew extremely attached to my first born son Oliver. She was always incredibly sensitive, wary of strangers and I suspect had problems with her spine as she hated to be petted on her back. In spite of a normal diet she retained the large head and spindly body look until she lost her mind at around the age of 10 years. The day I drove her to the vets to be put down – considered the only option – was sad but not tragic as I thought of the good years she had spent with us and the love and affection she had received. Daisy was always feral but we extended her life by a decade.
I always love reading Bea’s updates! Pleased to read everybody is settling into life in Abu Dhabi. x