Yikes! Synthetic henna sounds... not so good

UAE University in Al Ain has published a study in the journal of Leukaemia and Lymphoma showing the rate of acute myeloid leukaemia in Emirati women was 93 per cent higher than in men, and 63 per cent higher than in expatriate women.

The scientists, who cautioned that the disease is still very rare, believe the henna Emirati women use to decorate their hands and feet may be a cause – but only when it is the banned synthetic kind.

"The henna here used here is often made with benzene, [which] is a well-documented factor causing this specific type of leukaemia," said Dr Inaam Hassan, an associate professor at the university.

Has anyone seen the scary weird player piano in Marina Mall?

We were rushing through the mall to go to the cinema when we heard a piano pounding out the notes of Jingle Bells. What the? we thought, before we stumbled on this contraption, roped off and the subject of several intrigued onlookers. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was wandering through those frosty corridors and heard the unmistakeable notes of My Heart Will Go On (not with Celine Dion singing it, of course - another person was on vocals). It sings, too? More intrigued onlookers.

I have to go to the mall this week, I shall check to see if it has taken up dancing and report back.

Random jumble of questions about life in the UAE

Even after two years living here, I am amazed at all that goes on around me that I don't understand. Here are just a few things that make me go 'hmmmm'.

Why do people keep the plastic on their car seats, forever?
How can people loudly honk at you, then be smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world when you turn to look at them?
What is that woman dipping – a large lima bean? A little pita? – into that white goo on the television commercial on MBC4?
Does anyone who takes the double decker bus tour of Abu Dhabi like it?
Why does WAM, the state news agency, so frequently report on developments in South Korea?
What do people do with all the soft jarred cheese on sale in the supermarket?
Why are there so many ladies of the evening in some bars, and so few in others?
Why are limes from India – the only ones I can get 3/4 of the time – so yellow and small and dry?
Why are restaurants so cold I can't enjoy my meal?
Why can't anyone make a decent martini?
Sandstorms? Really?
What does the horse and carriage offering rides outside Marina Mall – the one with all the UAE flag stickers all over it – have to do with Emirati heritage?
Why does Spinney's only have english muffins half the time?
Why are there no mailboxes to post my letters?

Mini-restaurant review: Spaccanapoli, Crowne Plaza, Abu Dhabi

For all the money I've spent on eating out in Abu Dhabi, I haven't had very many good meals. So I've decided to start rating my restaurant meals, perhaps helping others avoid my mistakes. I am not going to get fancy, or pretentious, but I will give a rating: from one to five smiley faces. Cause that's what I look like when I've had a good meal.

Please do not judge me for how often I eat out.

Onto to Spaccanapoli, which I heard about on Twitter (thanks Twitter). I have never eaten at a Crowne Plaza Restaurant before because frankly, one night when I was there having cocktails, I decided that hotel smelled funny. (I can't vouch for the smell now – I entered Spaccanapoli from Hamdan Street and it smelled great. The restaurant, not the street)

On to the first thing I loved about Spaccanapoli: the street entrance. So many restaurants are tucked away in hotels that it's a bit stifling. Going in off the street helps me pretend I am at home. Someplace a bit more normal to me. Points for the trendy clean decor, and the faux library in the tiny bar. The food was delish (although the 1/2 metre pizza, above, was silly-big for three of us). We also had some yummy gnocchi, which was a little too samey to the pizza (our bad for ordering it and not a mushroom papardalle we had previously considered) and an awesome salad with smooth blue cheese and apples. The meal is preceded by baskets of warm flatbread served with roasted garlic (!) and tart chunks of parmesan, with a cool intertwined olive oil and balsamic set of bottles on the table for your pouring. As usual, due to the bread we were all full by the time our mains arrived.

There was also the requisite confusing-service moment, which I find a meal is rarely complete without. After our martinis had taken a really long time to arrive, the server explained "someone took the olives, and we are just waiting".

The best part though, was when the bill arrived. Spaccanapoli is not expensive at all! The massive pizza, most of it sent home in a box, salad, entree, bottle of pinot grigio and 5 martinis all came to a cool Dh630 dirhams. We all agreed we have paid twice that for meals we liked less. Next time I want to try the yummy-looking appetizer bar.

Also, and I consider this a major bonus, the toilets are self-flushing. And that is why, Spaccanapoli gets :) :) :) :)

My new obsession...

... is this picture. It was snapped by The National's travel editor, Rosemary Behan, on a recent trip to Sir Bani Yas island. Basically I look at it about twice every day. Who even knew giraffes could bend their legs like that? Look at the awkward angle of the joint! Don't they just look like two best mates? Like they are recreating some sort of iconic Sinatra-era buddy shot? Don't they look happy? Satisfied? As if they are kind of pleased, at themselves, and at having their picture taken?

Only in Abu Dhabi, would a tiny man like this come with your cocktail

It came with one of those vicious rum drinks they serve at Trader Vic's, in the Beach Rotana.

If I had a butler, I'd ask him to...

I was out with some work friends last night and one of them was talking about spending a night at Emirates Palace, where he and his wife were upgraded to a suite as it was their wedding anniversary.

With the suite came a butler. There is actually a sort of remote control for the room, he said, and on it is a button you can press to summon the butler. (I guess he just waits outside the door or something)

What did you get him to do? I asked.

We couldn't think of anything, he said. (I guess as much as we all think we would like a butler, if we had one we wouldn't know what to do with him, at least at first)

But then, just to illustrate the absurdity of it all, he added: "I've heard of people who call him up to say things like 'can you make a jacket for my cat?'