Today marked a week of my being here. Afsha the Great has been spectacular in scheduling, ticking things off and relentlessly keeping up my experiences while also being a mum, influencer and general boss. I’m also learning how she single handedly strategised my entire experience of Qatar. I’m slightly scared I think but more, in awe of her abilities and of her resourcefulness.

After the school run, Afsha said we’re headed to the Mina port today. This place is entirely too pretty (once again) and I had the feeling that it’s hugely instagrammable. As soon as I said it, I saw an Indian couple doing a pre wedding shot with 3 photographers following them. They looked Mallu at a 100 paces. That made them, at day 7, my first mal sighting. I’ve been telling my hosts that they’ve just been scamming about the gulf being full of mallus, because not even one has been found yet. And now, finally, that’s changed.

About Mina District, it’s yet another place to exclaim about in a high pitched voice.

It felt like I’d fallen into a box of macaroons. The pastel colours, rounded edges of the buildings will all make you say Santorini before I can say “gr” of Greece. But I’ve seen the same mud covered whitewashed rounded walls with small colourful doors and windows in south India. So when they said this was inspired by old Qatari architecture, it made sense. I suppose, in the old days, this was LEED certified sustainable.

The attention to detail, per usual, is gorgeous. The beautiful street lights (all nautical themed with anchors acting as hooks for lights, little fish designs on the base, perimeter markers designed to look like fishing weights all added up to create an atmosphere.

We went into the grandest fish store on earth. It looked like the set for a Disney mermaid story and clearly someone was having fun with the murals and the underwater themes.

It wasn’t even 8am, yet. What a start to the day!!

We headed to Mshereib for some unfinished business. But first, coffee. And watching the world go by.

Then, on to Angelina, that famous hot choc place from le rive gauche on the Seine. Le petit-dejeuner was a real treat! The hot choc was inseine good. The croissant cost some Monet but despite being francey it was worth it!

An anecdote about one of the residents who work here: At the counter at Angelina’s, I asked the pretty young girl in server’s white shirt, black pencil skirt and black stockings for suggestions. She sold me everything as potentially gifts (biscuits for that gossip sesh with the mother, one for sharing secrets with the older sister, and so on. I got sold, it was a few hours later, a niggling thought came back. I don’t have an older sister 😂) She confirmed my theory that the best sales people are those who are chatty authentically. If you are curious about others you can sell. She asked where I was travelling to and when I said India, she let loose about how she loves it there, that she’s a native Tajik but went on a 3-month visa to Delhi (of all the ghastly places) to learn English and how she remembers her teacher Mr. Naresh with fondness. She was also inordinately proud of herself for learning English so fast and how she loved the chaos and colour so much that she requested to extend her visa.

She brought the bill to our table and chatted with both of us. She asked how we met and when I said I met Afsha when she was just out of her teens, she wanted to know how we’ve kept in touch and not fallen out and was just so curious and chatty beyond plain good behaviour for customer service. Made me wonder about (and misquoting my boy John Milton), the loneliness in the lives of those who stand and wait.

The obligatory chat-eau made an appearance and we chatted till we heard the sweet ding of the tram. We scarpered and Rodin that tram tout suite.

The tram was our unfinished business. I’m so glad Afsha made the effort to plan this in for today. It is too cuddly for words. It looked and moved, as trams do, slug like but significantly cuter. We took a trip of all of the design district. We both unleashed our inner 5 year olds. I definitely squealed inside the way I must’ve done when that Puttani Express set off in Cubbon Park. I do have vivid memories of it and the jump in the stomach when it sets off. The tram has the cutest little singing sound to signify when it’s leaving a stop and was gorgeous.

Bye now, Mshereib, till we meet again!

Afsha gave me the lowdown on the hierarchy of Lulu supermarkets from fancy and suitable for expats to Indians only and how families do circle time in the aisles (probably going naatu evadey?) On that heartwarming thought, we went into one, got fixings for lunch and also that gave me the chance for one of my favourite pasttimes when travelling: understand local culture through their food aisles.

Apparently these beauties are all grown here. Then I freaked out on the variety of hummus, my one true love.

Afsha got these wee kiwis that look and taste like the real deal but scaled down.

I didn’t hear any Mallu, though some folks did have mal features. I’m pretty convinced again that there are no mallus to be found in Qatar. I think it’s a conspiracy theory. Mal-intended people making trouble when they could’ve keep Kuwait and carried on

As the sun was setting, we set out for another adventure. This time, to Lusail. This “city” is the latest in a long list of desirable addresses. The Lusail Towers were winking into nightlife. This one’s got Lord Foster and his team’s pawprints all over it. I love that what they’re calling cities are not so different from our own Cooke Town, Fraser Town, Richards Town, etc. It’s not a gated community but is self-sufficient and came up to meet a specific need.

It’s differently gorgeous, this Lusail. This feels like a big flex of the “We’re looking to the future” Besides the now ubiquitous restaurant and retail spaces on Lusail boulevard, there was also the marina promenade to explore and the gorgeous Lusail Katara towers, which houses hotels.

We walked the windy promenade checking out the glam private pier for the yachts to dock and for people to sail into the hotel.

Little miss Afsha loaded us back into the car to head home for dinner but not before making a trip to the Pearl, to appreciate it at night, before warning that we were coming here for breakfast. Cannot wait!!

As I was winding down for the day, trying to shake off the feeling of “last week of summer vacation”, I also was acknowledging what this trip was doing for me, from the perspective of getting an insider’s view on a nation at the edge of serious ascension. A nation is an organic being, as are individual people. I got to thinking about how this has been a blueprint for the human psyche as much as it has been for growth. It’s easier here to make peace with that word I have mixed feelings about in the urban planning context: progress. The country, like the psyche goes through constant metamorphosis. We tear down and build over old spaces, keeping their spirit intact, like Souq Waqif. We create cultural centres that houses our connection between the ancient and sacred, with the contemporary and rapidly solidifying, like Katara. We dig into our heritage to polish pearls and present that in a different form, like the Pearl. We get ready for big events and put our best foot forward, like Lusail. We tear down what doesn’t serve and rebuild something entirely different but with a language so clear that it is both transcendent and comforting at once, like Msheireb. We have spaces to pamper and sandpaper over, just because, like Mina District.

That this little nation has won the hearts of my gentle giant friend Afsha and her beautiful family, it holds their hearts in safety here, that outdoes all else that I’ve seen here this week.