Ajnabiya: Sheikh Faisal and Saddam Hussein

I am continually frustrated here that since the exchange rate is currently about 5 riyals to the pound (having been almost 7.5 when we first arrived), 0.5 riyals is about 10p. A significant sum of money me thinks. And yet there only about eight '50 dirham' coins in the whole country, none of which end up in the shops that I frequent. Since all shopkeepers round up, you either pay 10p more than you should or they palm you off with some stale chewing gum as a meagre substitute. I know it's not much money, but just imagine all those 10 pence pieces over three years...... I could buy some shoes for that.

Mr A is meanwhile working out how to do his job without putting on five stone having had two separate meetings/events last week which involved unannounced three course buffets. Ah, they love a good buffet. Especially one hidden behind secret doors that will be opened just as you think it might be safe to leave. One of these events was for the launch of a website where at the critical moment, the screen said 'Internet Explorer cannot connect'. Priceless. Maybe they were hoping to distract with the lamb stew.

I’m recovering from the hilarity of him destroying security barriers. Going to visit some friends for supper, we were driving in to the parking of their apartment building which, like so many others, involves stopping at a security gate where a man takes your ID, writes down your name, and lifts the barrier to let you through (which is of course how they will spot the terrorists when they come, because the terrorists won’t have thought to have their ID with them). As we’d stopped to talk to the security guy he’d lifted the barrier but during the course of the conversation (and unbeknownst to Mr A), he’d lowered it again. So when we’d completed the technicalities Mr A happily drove in to the car park, THROUGH the barrier which conveniently snapped off leaving our car totally unbothered, a rather flustered security guard and a pathetic looking plastic bar at the side of the road. Mr A is in damage limitation mode with regards to his reputation in Doha, not helped by me telling everyone we meet.

I’ve been counting my lucky stars at having a job as my weekly British architecture journal keeps me updated with the increasingly depressing news from the UK. This week I’ve been discussing the intricacies of toilet arrangements with my older, Qatari colleague in the foyer of a 5* hotel - should this toilet have a handspray? and loo roll as well? and should it have a basin IN the toilet cubicle, or is outside acceptable for whatever people will get up to in there?

I spent last week collapsed at home with a bad back, a cat with an eye infection to keep me company and Jane Austen DVDs that I forgot I hadn't watched (much to Mr A's disappointment). This week we’ve been entertaining my sister who has popped by for a week. Having taken her on a tour of hotels – Four Seasons for terrace cocktails in a thunder storm, Ritz Carlton for brunch, Grand Hyatt for sandwiches overlooking furry animals dancing to 90s Europop - we took her to Sheikh Faisal’s Museum yesterday which is one of the very few things that we hadn’t yet done in Qatar. Obviously, this highlights the inaccuracy of my previous statements claiming that the Museum of Islamic Art is the only Museum around but perhaps you will forgive me when I make clear that this is an eccentric collection of an old man’s belongings only able to be seen by appointment. We had a very exclusive private tour with fifty Italian tourists, a Lebanese contingent, and most of Germany.

Sheikh Faisal bin Qassim al Thani is a relative of the Emir who has collected a lot of stuff and has built a big complex to house it all. He has:

Boats, with lots of boxes on them (inside),

Boats on a small pond (outside),