Not George's Night

George is apparently away for a week, leaving Not George to entertain us all by herself. After a slightly nervous start, she soon began to enjoy herself and so did everyone else. For one thing, without George's massive Korg keyboard filling the stage, she had room to dance. For another, there was no need for her to smile bravely through George's doubtful vocals and interminable sax solos. In fact

Ratus ratus, by Pararegular

A reader, Pararegular, today left such a paratypical comment on an earlier post that I thought it worth promoting to a post in its own right. Any more stories like this, Mr. Pararegular, and I'll happily extend you authoring rights here. Seriously.------------------------So, Mr. Paraglider...Great blog, by the way, but have you heard about the Paranormal rats? Yes, I said rats.One should almost

Early Days

You stand on the lawn holding the windfall apple between your feet. Taking care not to split it, you press the garden cane clean through it, a couple of inches into the ground. Using the cane as a slingshot, you launch the apple with all your might. High over the trees and the garden wall. Over the old warehouses and beyond, to land out of sight. Possibly in the harbour. Maybe even across the

Plus Ca Change

At first sight, Stufital hasn't changed at all through Ramadan, but on closer inspection the tattier chairs are seen to have been re-upholstered and the table tops revarnished. The other change, which we were expecting, is the new duo, George and not-George. No guitar, sadly. George leads from a keyboard which manages to play itself when he switches to saxophone. Not-George, whose name I'll learn

Ramadan Kareem

Ramadan comes round again, and with it the closing of every bar in Doha. Dubai at least allows evening opening. It's not the lack of alcohol that's the problem. Residents' permits solve that one. But it just makes for a long month when there's nowhere to go on a weekend evening. Yes, there are cafes and shopping malls, good for maybe fifteen and five minutes respectively. But these are hardly

Another Beautiful Figure

Another small milestone, the five figure visitor count. And in spite of extended periods of neglect, the second five thousand came faster than the first, so we must be doing something right. My thanks to all regular and occasional visitors. Please keep coming, and I'll try to make sure there's always something new to see. Requests will be taken seriously!

Waterloo Sunset GT

For a couple of weeks now one of the Stufital regulars has been asking Paraglider to sing Waterloo Sunset. The excuse of not knowing all the lyrics had worn thin (there aren't very many after all) and last night, after one too many beers, it (the excuse) had finally run its course and the moment had arrived. Unfortunately, said regular made the request indirectly, through Rusty (the band) who

Mr Gumbo Jumbo PBUH

No doubt he had a crush on Lisa. No doubt it was not reciprocated. We think he was a dentist. Certainly he was a gentleman. And a regular. Occasionally, he would come in wearing a business suit, and once, a paisley pattern jumper. But his normal attire was an immaculate white dishtash, his dancing dress. He would drink bottled Heineken with an ever-widening smile and a sparkle in his crossed eyes

A Pair of Sparkling

What did you send me there for? It's a terrible place! - Gfoot's first words to Paraglider, in Stufital, on his return from Dubai. It seems the room was OK. Breakfast was OK. Location was fine. So what was the problem? - Cost me a fortune! - What, the rates have gone up? - Bugger the rates - Gfoot is always direct - I never got out the bar! - He'd been aware of eyes in the far corner, following

No like this Qatar

Clearly scrawled straight from the heart, this choice piece of graffiti must have a sad story behind it. One wonders what poor disaffected soul could have been frustrated enough with his host country (for one assumes he is not a local) to throw caution to the winds and vent his frustration on a defenseless concrete wall. A grey concrete wall in a hot, dusty city. A hot dusty city that doesn't

Unpluggeder Still

G-foot's party by the pool was a slow starter. Looking down from the 12th floor balcony, Paraglider & Co could count maybe seven stalwarts, nine floors below, alternately huddling to feel partyish or spreading out to occupy more space. Numbers were such that it was perhaps a blessing that G-foot's plan to provide a piper to entertain the guests had come to naught. On the other hand, Paraglider

Unplugged undone

Following the raging success of their inaugural concert, Paraglider and Mr G, in a bold and unprecedented step, promptly embarked on their farewell tour of Doha Stufital, thus cutting out all the usual tedious career-building stuff in between. The teeming fans were shocked and dismayed to learn of the duo's immediate disbandment, occasioned not by the usual flouncing off by a petulant star - I

Paraglider Unplugged

A vast throng in Stufital was treated on Friday afternoon to a live musical extravaganza performed, separately and together, by Paraglider and Mr G, and even, briefly, by Staffer-D who fielded a telephone call between verses 2 and 3 without losing a beat. Never before in the history of musical entertainment has so much been achieved by so few with a single microphone. In fact, Friday's

The Blind Projectionist

If you've ever looked backwards in a cinema you'll have seen a small window close to the projector. This is so the projectionist can check the image quality and focus, and generally keep an eye on proceedings below in the auditorium. Once, between contracts, Paraglider found himself looking after a 3D Projection Theatre in Saudi, for Aramco, and was surprised to find a wooden slatted venetian

Spread too thin

I've decided to come clean. I have too many outlets on the web and it's becoming impossible to service them all properly. So, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to kill off Paraplexed because it doesn't really have a purpose in life. I apologise to anyone (*I think there's only one!) who has linked to it. By way of compensation, I'm providing an RSS portal here, on Paranormal, to my Real Life

Parastasis, apparently

It was as if a year had not passed. The floor is still Paranormal pink. The dartboard, mercifully, shows no signs of having been opened. The corner behind the propped-open door (yes, it was the afternoon) was freezing. Such changes as were perceptible were of degree, not of substance. The bar staff are more mixed, with Ethiopia challenging Romania. Bammy has moved 11 degrees clockwise round the (

Transience, even here

Ani's yellow chiffon descended on his head and, for once, Dindsay was silenced. Even dumbstruck. For all too brief an interval, an other-worldly calm permeated Stufital's Old Manger. Diners sat motionless, their steak-laden forks frozen in mid-air like so many bullrushes in a frosted millpond. Coral, realising her song could suddenly be heard, dropped to a velvet pianissimo. Mr Bab stopped

Reincineration

It is always a pleasure to have some good news to report and, while this is not Earth-shattering, in the context of the Little World of the Paranormal Hotel blog, it may surely have fruitful consequences. After an absence of nearly a year, Paraglider is once again the proud owner of a return ticket to Dubai. Part of Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday will be spent reabsorbing the glorious ambience of

Concert Time

If Dubai is a Steinway concert grand, Qatar is probably a kazoo - entertaining enough in the right hands and for a short while, but incapable of delivering lasting cultural sustenance. Not that I'm complaining, of course. In three years, I've learned to hoot and toot with the best of them. Polyphony - who needs it? The current beer shortage more than compensates for any indoor ski slope and few

Beer & Chimneys

It's a pub. It's made of stone and brick and has a tiled pitched roof. This one is called the Cavalry Arms and has a sign to prove it. It has chimneys - remember those? Local people and visitors are allowed to go into it, wearing whatever they please. There is no door policy. It does not close on public holidays. It sells beer, not just lager or 'creamflow'. It is not on the 23rd floor of a 5-

A Sinking Feeting Feeling

Washing Feet in the Sink is Prohibited. This notice, stuck on the wall in the gent's lavatory in the Doha Stufital's 2nd floor club more or less sums up the difference between said Stufital and the Paranormal. In Paranormal, we know how to behave acceptably badly without being told. In Stufital, the clientèle (who have never, till now, been graced with a French epithet) have to be told how badly

Prophet Earring

A long time ago, Paraglider found an Apostle teaspoon on a family picnic at Tairlaw Lynn. Later, by demonstrating that there were now fourteen such spoons in the house, and two Johns, he was finally believed not to have brought it with him in his pocket. Some things come to pass, sadly. A mere three posts ago, we hinted that the Oddmiral Plaza might not exist - now we learn that it no longer does