Qatar is a small emirate, a thumb-shaped peninsula that sticks out into the Persian Gulf. Doha is its capital, indeed its only city. A recent short visit confirmed many of my preconceptions that, containing little but intense heat, sand, camels and the small local population, it must have been one of the poorest places on earth up to the end of the second World War. There was, to be sure, some pearl fishing, but even that could have done little to alleviate its poverty. Then came the exploitation of oil and natural gas (Qatar, pronounced CAT-aah, sits on top of the biggest field in the world) and everything changed.
Now the Arab population of about 150,000 is supplemented by some 250,000 expatriates of many races, luxury hotels are sprouting and an enormous new shopping centre is being constructed. Most of those who visit the country are there on business, but the Qataris are keen to diversify and want to start a tourist trade. If one didn't see evidence to the contrary in nearby booming Dubai, one would think that they had an almost impossible task, so fierce is the sun and so limited, at first glance, the number of things to do. Yet, thanks to huge investment and ubiquitous air conditioning in every major building, already the first Germans are arriving and will no doubt be followed by other nationalities before long.
The price doesn't come cheap, for these are no holidays for the bargain-package set. But if one is prepared to pay and fancies the sort of vacation that centres around one's hotel, then standards are undoubtedly of the highest. The Sheraton in Doha, briefly my own pied a terre, is a vast glass pyramid, set in 70 acres of landscaped gardens overlooking the cerulean waters of the Gulf. Inside and out there are no fewer than 11 different bars and restaurants, serving every kind of food from tex-mex to Mongolian (I kid you not). Being an Islamic state, Qatar puts limits on the sale of alcohol. A "cocktail party" in honour of the group with whom I travelled offered an array of fruit juices and nothing else. But, possibly with one eye on that developing tourism, the regulations are observed in a relaxed way and it's not at all difficult to find the places where you can get a drink - in the hotel.
Even the standard rooms here are the size of tennis courts, with every comfort imaginable. There are also various suites to be had, from Junior right up to the Head of State Suite, a series of rooms where the King of Saudi Arabia has been to stay in splendour, taking a whole floor for his entourage, which included 30 of his cooks - what on earth could they all have been doing? By way of more energetic relaxation the hotel offers both indoor and outdoor tennis courts, a jogging track, bowling alley, windsurfing, sailing, water skiing, and fishing. It has its own small beaches and a swimming pool, chilled because the sea water, in June anyway, is literally, as we used to say when we plunged into the chilly waters of the west of Ireland, "like soup".
Away from the hotels there is a golf course, created out of the desert and watered ceaselessly to keep it green, sea trips by dhow and, best for me, journeys out into the desert in air conditioned four-wheel drive vehicles. The desert is an elemental force, like the jungle or the sea, with white dunes rising to great heights and flat plains which, in the shimmering heat, look from a distance as if they contained pools of water. Nothing could be further from the truth, however. Everything is parched here and there was no sign of life except for a small herd of camels and a distant flock of flamingos in a sea inlet.
The distant vistas of mile after mile of dunes in the blinding light are quite beautiful and, if you want thrills, the drivers who take you there are daredevils who speed up the almost vertical slopes of the steepest ones - and then skid down the other side in a way that had some of our party cowering in their seats. There's a midway stop, where a tent has been set up beside the sea, carpeted and cushioned in the Arab manner. Here there's a meal laid on, a welcome opportunity to swim in the surprisingly refreshing sea and, for the stout of heart, a chance to go down the dunes on skis or snow boards. It all makes for a fun day out and every prospect pleases except for the ubiquitous empty plastic bottles, which have invaded every corner of the planet.
A day in Dubai didn't give much opportunity to get more than an instant impression. This is shop-till-you-drop territory, a cosmopolitan cross-roads like Singapore or Hong Kong. Places to go for this include the gold souk and the spices souk, a district called Karama given over completely to the sale of fake designer labels for half nothing and, in its gleaming new airport, what those who know tell me is one of the best duty free shops in the world.
There is a wealth of striking, indeed beautiful, modern architecture and most of the big international hotel chains are represented. (One of the more bizarre sights, for me, was entering the splendid Hyatt Regency from the intense heat and finding a crowd of Arab children skating energetically on a large ice rink.)
In the winter, the climate is less fierce and even cool in the evenings. This is the high season for tourism and the long lines of hotels under construction show that it will be a major tourist destination before long. But don't go if you don't like the heat.
Getting there
There are no direct flights from Dublin to Qatar. Return flights to Doha via London cost around £350. Travel agents dealing with Qatar Airlines include Travel Around (tel: 01-6610622), United Travel (tel: 012884346) and Select Travel (01-6110755).