Our morning routine took us to Aspire Park. Ms. Afsha took the ducks some baguettes coz she’s that sweet. We walked around, she told the backstory of this neighbourhood, the sports complex, the upcoming sports day (they have a national day for sports. Every 2nd Tuesday in February: that’s so smart)

After some hanging about with baobabs airlifted from another continent, enjoying the cold air coming off the little lake and walking up an appetite, we headed back but not before my first hot chocolate this trip

That’s where the hot chocolate is from. I was so greedy, I gulped it up without pics. It had melting cream and a fat stick of chocolate that sunk in and hot milk. It was something to give thanks to the universe for.

At the M7 Museum at Mshereib, the design district of Qatar, we went off to see the Forever Valentino museum. Women in twos and threes wafted in, walked through elements of the exhibition ooh-ing and aah-ing at gowns worn by Princess Grace of Monaco and Jackie O, and shoes too delicious for words and gorgeous minaudières inspired by the red coral reefs.

The Valentino red made an appearance. A lot. For my colour loving spirit, this was heaven.

I took my dressiest amethyst ring for the outing and we both had super fun.

I loved most about this exhibit, that a business, a corporate house with aesthetic as its DNA did a lovely job of showcasing its legacy. In India, a lot of businesses, especially the kinds I work with, don’t find the need for legacy creation, documentation or celebration. The Indian ethos is often one of celebrating permanence. These same folks would have pictures of their own childhood and of their kids at different stages and realise how, looking back provides different anchors and different lenses at various life stages. For a business, legacy articulation serves the same function. In organisations where I have a say, I do this anyway and the retrospective allows company founders to reinvent themselves over and over again. Their earlier selves are the giants whose shoulders they scramble on to see further.

The build up and stages of the exhibit, the clearly “no expenses spared” approach (I’m seeing that a lot here, to be honest) were well charted out. The clothes and accessories were central to the stories of their beginning, the atelier or studio space, the seamstresses at the core of it, the partnerships with the famous, the grand show of the runway, the creative directorship of the crown Prince turned king, Pierpaolo Piccioli, and the maintenance of the ethos from the time of Valentino Garavani, the story is composite. It evoked gasps of joyful shock and gentle oohs of awe. The experience was unforgettable.

After looking at many inordinately beautiful spaces, we stopped at a Santa Nata for coffee and pastel de nata.

We got in time to intercept the kids coming home from school, feed the hordes and head to the sand dunes.

The sand dunes were almost an hour away and we got there in time for sunset. The climb wasn’t easy and I was using my gasping breathing technique mostly to stay alive. But like with any other climb, I got up there and it was gorgeous. The kids were a study in individuality. The teens weren’t amused at the sand dunes. The younger ones dug sand castles, wanted to catch butterflies and had philosophical observations about beetles. The parents had simultaneously individual styles of working with them and an umbrella style of fairness. It was a thing of beauty. We headed back to “How many minutes to home?” “How many now?”… “now how many?” Etc. I almost started an “Are we there yet?” But feared they might offload me on the desert and carry on, so kept quiet 😂

After dinner, Afsha and I headed out to the father of Basha’s, Village and every other Bangalore department store. This one is called Al Rawnaq. During the pandemic we joked that Basha had an underground storing place all over Cooke Town. This place was actually some 2 floors underground. They had way too many things that Afsha calls “don’t want but need” I escaped somehow with half a dozen yummy pens. A quick kunafa stop and we headed homeward.

Marshmallow, the neighbour’s little kitten who is cuddly as all heck but hates cuddles was next on the menu. I tried to teach her some skills useful for the wild, and as usual, got a scratch for my efforts. But she’s such a gentle kitty that I force cuddled her a bit and went off to sleep. Another perfect Qatar day!!