Another of the wonders of the Gulf has to be Abu Dhabi's old Airport Terminal Building, the magic mushroom to its friends. Someone was telling me its days are numbered. I don't know how true that is. But before it goes the way of the dodo, let's be grateful for the eccentricity that produced one of the weirdest inner spaces in the region. This is, by the way, the 200th post in the Paranormal Hotel blog. Perhaps not an Earth shattering achievement, but it's been a lot of fun along the way. Thanks for reading my ramblings!
Showing posts from October, 2010
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By Para Glider
First the guns. Even from a distance, something looked wrong. The unnaturally tapered barrel, the wholly impractical wheel pattern: surely these couldn't be real? guns, of sorts And real they are not, fashioned entirely out of fibreglass and as useful as a chocolate fireplace. But I suppose not out of place in a town that builds Venice's Grand Canal inside a shopping mall. roses, posing And these are the two singers and one keyboard man who constitute the replacement for Boggs & the girls. They're trying hard, but its not an improvement. The phrase keyboard karaoke comes to mind. All is not lost on the music scene, however. Ramada's Orion bar is now hosting a Sri Lankan trio of piano (real piano), acoustic guitar and female vocalist. Career musicians, and no youngsters, this outfit uses no synthetic or recorded backing of any kind. If they stop playing, the music stops! Salon music, not too loud, well played and sung, and eminently listenable.