Skip to main content

Cole Comments on Qatar

     Doha was awesome.  An ever mixing melting-pot of islamic tradition and
oil-funded innovation, the city holds surprises around every corner.  As we were only there for a short time, we only got to experience the
tip of this city's cultural iceberg.  That said, the sites we visited were nonetheless intriguing and inspiring.





 


      As much as it shocks me to say it, my favorite place we visited
in Doha was the Museum of Islamic Art (and yes, you read it right, I
did actually love the museum).  The building itself was an
architectural wonder, with high domed ceilings, and sweeping
sandstone/marble supports, all in a uniform geometric pattern.  I was
most surprised, however, at the exhibits.  When I heard that we would
be going to the 'Islamic Art' museum, I had envisioned in my head long
halls filled with identical-looking scrolls covered in arabic
calligraphy ('you seen one, you seen them all').  Instead, what we
found were interesting, versatile exhibits, with artifacts ranging
from huge royal rugs to ornate glass lamps from up to a thousand years
ago!  After walking through the three floors of displays, we ate at
the French-style cafe, and enjoyed coffee and croissants with a view
of the Doha skyline.


    I had never been a big fan of museums, but this one was a breath
of fresh air.  The museum was refined and modern; a great example of
oil money put to good use.  I'd definitely recommend a visit there if
you are ever in the Doha area.
--Cole

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

EUA: tanto estrago em tão pouco tempo

 As part of my effort to learn about Portugal, both the country and the language, I'm subscribing to the centrist newspaper, O Publico .  There are plenty of newspapers: conservative tabloids, and socialist and communist-sponsored daily papers; I find O Publico to be most sober, with consistently interesting columnists and opinion pieces, in addition to some local (Porto) news, with just enough sporting news to keep me chatting with the taxi driver.   Today's opinion piece sums up, I think, European pundits' view of the U.S. government.  As the title puts it: so much damage in so little time.  I shudder at the rank incompetence and corrupt behavior, demonstrating a cynical attitude toward public service, showing indeed that the cruelty is the point. What scandal, what damage will be the tipping point to collapse this government?   And what will it take to recover from the damage?  Who will be able to trust the US government again, ever?   Only ni...

Yikes! Russian Chocolate!

 The other day we chanced upon a Slavic grocery store.  We went inside, marveled at all the products from various eastern european countries, from Czechia to Poland to Yugoslavia to Russia to Kazakhstan.  I grabbed a chocolate bar... and now I realize that it's Russian, imported via Germany.  The ingredients list is written in Russian, Kyrgyz, and Uzbek; and a separate ingredients sticker pasted over it in German.  No Portuguese or Spanish or English.  Hmm. How did it get here?  And what sort of sanctions are imposed on Russian confectioners? The chocolate itself is just okay, nothing special.

De Montpellier à Bayonne

  [25mar22] De Montpellier à Bayonne: Easy morning, clean up the apartment, walk the suitcases to Place de la Comédie , take Tramway one stop to the train station, get breakfast (regional specialties), train first class car #2 to Montpellier, changing trains is Toulouse.  Second class is 2X2 seating while first-class is 2x1 seating with a bit more legroom and slightly nicer seats, but otherwise not much different.  Fortunately these intercités trains have good wi-fi.  Arrival at Toulouse is a bit delayed; Jeff runs to the ObjetsTrouvés office seeking his eyeglasses.  Fortunately the office is open, the guy helpful; he shows me his box of found eyeglasses.  Mine are not there.  Disappointing, yet it's somewhat reassuring to know for sure that they are truly lost.  I run back to Track #3, where our next train is boarding—we (and others) struggle to identify car #13.  Even other passengers cannot find #13.  Eventually I ask a worker, who...