A week is a long time in F1

"Back on track: F1 October 30" ran the headline in Saturday's Gulf Daily News, the main English language newspaper in Bahrain. The paper ran lengthy articles thanking the FIA for their decision to reinstate the Grand Prix and saying how it would help the economy, particularly the tourism sector, bounce back from the damage caused by the unrest. The community newspaper, GulfWeekly, has been running a campaign to garner readers' support to reinstate the race. "We did it!" proclaimed yesterday's headline.

Press conferences were held at the Sakhir race circuit where executives told of their delight at the decision and proudly kick-started a 150 day countdown to the event. The Grand Prix, they said, is a source of national pride and an event that transcends politics.

Yet even as celebrations were taking place here, it seems all was not well behind the scenes at the FIA. Teams and drivers were unhappy at the decision to reschedule the race and yesterday Bernie Ecclestone said he believed the race would not go ahead because of the situation here - anti-government protesters had called for a day of rage on the race date - and opposition from teams.

After the euphoria of last week, Bahrain's business leaders have branded the decision shameful and claim it smacks of hypocrisy. The three month State of Emergency has been lifted - although there are still numerous checkpoints, they are now manned by community police and Bahrain's National Guard as opposed to GCC forces - and a national dialogue will start next month to boost reforms within the Kingdom. The Crown Prince has been in the UK and is now in the US holding talks with President Obama. He has emphasised the country's commitment to reform, no matter how difficult the process may be.

Whatever your view on the situation in Bahrain, the decision not to hold the F1 will be a massive blow to an already hard-hit hospitality industry here as well as a huge disappointment to the many F1 fans in Bahrain. Maybe next year...

The Gallery: My Backyard in the Desert

When we moved into our house about 15 months ago, the garden was an overgrown shambles. Our Indian gardener, Joy, has worked wonders in the intervening months, pruning, seeding and planting and we now have a lush lawn for the kids to play on and plants galore for me to enjoy.

The frangipani trees and bougainvillea are in blossom at the moment and in the evenings, the scent of the jasmine fills the air. It's hard to believe sometimes that we live on a desert island.

The Knife Sharpener

One of my memories of childhood is the ritual of the Sunday roast. Mum would spend all afternoon preparing it - roast beef, at least two veg, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, the lot. Delicious smells would pervade the house and we would gather in the dining room around 6pm for a proper family meal. Dad would always carve and was extremely fussy about having a super-sharp carving knife. Each week he would stand at the head of the table, carving knife in one hand and steel in the other, and make a great play of sharpening the knife. It was something he insisted on, along with smartly polished shoes (I've still never found anyone who can buff school shoes to quite such a sheen as Dad) and good table manners.

Ever since I've left home, Dad has always complained about the bluntness of the knives in my kitchen. One year, he even bought me an expensive carving knife and steel set, but I think he is the only one who has ever used the steel.

Since living in Bahrain though, my knives are so sharp that I regularly slice my fingers when cutting fruit and veg. This is all thanks to Anil, a nice knife-sharpener gentleman from Andhra Pradesh.

Once a month, Anil settles himself down on my terrace, opens an ancient-looking wooden box and sets to work on all my knives and scissors until they are razor sharp. Of course, some of them don't really need sharpening every month, but Anil told me once that on top of his living expenses, he has to pay his Bahraini sponsor nearly GBP 1,500 for his work visa: that's an awful lot of knives.

On his last visit, he was so happy as he was heading home for the first time in over 2 years to see his wife and four young children, to whom he sends money each month. Bahrain is full of expats like Anil, separated from their families, sometimes for years, because of a lack of jobs in their homelands. I can't imagine how hard it must be not being around to see your children grow up. I hope he has a wonderful holiday and until he returns at the end of the summer, I'll just have to dust off Dad's steel.

Turkish Delights

"If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul,"Alphonse de Lamartine, the French poet and politician once wrote. The only problem is choosing in which direction to cast your gaze, for Istanbul is packed with architectural eye-candy and glorious views on every side. From the multitude of minarets punctuating the skyline and the glistening waters of the Bosphorus; from the hustle and bustle of the Grand Bazaar to the quiet of the tulip-filled courtyard gardens of the beautiful old mansions, Istanbul is a delight. And we were lucky enough to spend a few days there over Easter.

Aya Sofya

First Christian church (King Richard worshipped there en route to the Crusades), then mosque and now museum. Magnificent architecture and stunning mosaics.

The Blue Mosque

Built in 17th century to rival the nearby Aya Sofya (from where the first photo is taken), this vast mosque dominates the skyline of Sultanahmet.

The Basilica Cistern

Enormous underground cistern built by the Emperor Justinianus. Keep an eye out for the heads of Medusa.

Topkapi Palace

Mehmet the Conqueror starting building this magnificent palace over looking the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus shortly after he defeated the Byzantine emperor in 1453. It was inhabited by subsequent sultans until the 19th century. The highlight is definitely the Harem, not only because it is so much less crowded than the rest of the complex (because of the additional entrance fee) but also because the tour gives a real insight into a life which for us Westerners has always been shrouded in mystery.

Of course we had to explain some of the more technical vocab to the kids - What is a concubine? Why is this called the Black Eunuch's Mosque? - but Olivia got up to speed pretty quickly. Here's an extract from her diary:

"Dear Diary

Today I went to the Sultan's palace. We went into his wardrobe and looked at his clothes. When my Dad saw the Sultan's trousers he said, "The Sultans must have had big bottoms". After that we went into the Treasury room and looked at the Sultan's thrones, plates and jewellery. Next we had a drink and a look at where the royal family lived. There I found out something VERY WIERD. That thing was that some of the boys had their eunuch cut off so they couldn't have sex..."

The Grand Bazaar

Bosphorus cruise

Beautiful views of the City, palaces and summer houses on the way to the Black Sea.

Streetlife

Back to Bahrain

So we're back. We arrived home just over a week ago. The British Embassy was no longer advising nationals to leave, school had re-opened and Ian and the cat were missing us.

The first thing we did was drive from the airport past the site of the former Pearl Roundabout. From the aeroplane window on the day we left, I had seen clouds of black smoke billowing around the giant Pearl monument - the aftermath of the clearing of the roundabout. On March 18, the Pearl monument and the roundabout were demolished by the authorities. What was once a symbol of Bahrain, appearing on nearly every postcard and in all the guidebooks is now a rather complex looking traffic intersection.

Besides the changes to the skyline, there are other differences too. A state of emergency has been declared for the next few months; a curfew is still in place in certain parts of the capital; there are police checkpoints near former trouble spots causing long tailbacks at peak hours; there is still a military presence in the centre of town and troops are also deployed at certain times to stand guard in their APC's near Shia villages. The arrival of Saudi and GCC troops has also led to criticism by Iran, Iraq and Lebanon, resulting in the Bahrain government suspending flights to those countries and deporting a number of their expats.

I have a number of friends who have not returned and do not intend to. Most of these were intending to move on in the summer anyway and have simply brought their plans forward; some have decided to relocate solely because of the situation here. Some businesses too have relocated to elsewhere in the Gulf and despite the local press running a "Bahrain's Back in Business" campaign, there's no doubt that recent months have been extremely trying for certain industry sectors, particularly hospitality and tourism.

But for the moment at least, day-to-day life for us continues to be relatively normal, albeit somewhat subdued. For some reason, not many people are in the party mood at the moment...

Evacuation

Very early on Wednesday morning, a friend in Bahrain called my mobile. "They're going to clear the Roundabout," she said. "The Embassy are advising people who don't have to be here to leave. Could be time to go."

I dragged myself out of bed to make a cup of tea, still uncertain of whether we should leave. As I stood at the kettle there were cries of "God is great!" and the gunfire started. Lots of it. And the sound of tear gas canisters exploding. And more gunfire. It was indeed time to go. "Don't go outside!" I yelled at the kids and promptly booked us flights.

Instructions came from Ian's office that it was not safe to leave the compound. I ran up to the roof and saw a huge cloud of black smoke rising from Pearl Roundabout and Apache helicopters circling overhead. There were several explosions which I later learned were gas canisters, which had been used for cooking by the protesters, exploding. And after an hour, just a deathly quiet.

As I packed suitcases for me and the girls, Ian was on the landline trying to sort out work contingencies: mobile coverage had been cut and the internet was painfully slow. He, along with most other fathers, has stayed to work.

We set off a short time later for the airport. At the end of our road was a checkpoint with a tank, an armoured personnel carrier and a rather intimidating looking policeman in a black balaclava and mask with a rifle slung over his shoulders. He politely told us we could not pass and would have to take a detour to the airport. We passed a further three such checkpoints before arriving. You could count the number of cars on the normally busy motorway on one hand.

There is now a tense calm in Bahrain. Troops are no longer on the streets, but police checkpoints are everywhere. Malls and restaurants are beginning to re-open for parts of the day, although some areas are subject to curfews. Schools are to remain closed until at least 27 March.

So in the meantime the girls and I are in the UK with my folks - an unscheduled family visit. No gunshots, no helicopters, just calm. Last month I helped Isabelle with a project on World War II evacuees. Little did I know that a short time later we would be evacuees ourselves.

Showing Solidarity

It's all kicking off here again. Yesterday on the way to school I had to run the gauntlet of youths dragging barbed wire and industrial bins across the road in vigilante-style road blocks. "Look straight ahead and don't wave!" I instructed the six children in the car as we weaved our way through.

Later I went to the Seef area to renew my car insurance; this is Bahrain and it can't be done on the phone. I had to go the back way as the main road was blocked by protesters. On arriving at the Solidarity insurance offices on the 11th floor of the Seef office block I was greeted by an open-mouthed Bahraini in thobe and ghutrah.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "We're closed - none of my staff could get in."

"I'm here to renew my car insurance," I replied. "With everything going on, it seems negligent to let it lapse. You're here. Can't you do it?"

There were about three others in the office and I became the source of much amusement: expat English woman struggles against all odds to renew Solidarity insurance.

"We're going to use you in our next advertising campaign," chuckles one.

I'm about to leave when we hear the roar of sirens and look out to see about 20 police vans screech onto the highway below to block a band of about 200 protesters who are rushing towards them. Tear gas is fired; sound bombs explode.

"Tea?" asks the man in the thobe.

After about half an hour, the police pushed back the protesters and I left to pick up the kids from school. We reached home without incident.

School is closed today. British Embassy advice is to stay indoors. I had no food in the house so went to the local supermarket this morning and it was packed. Milk, butter and potatoes were in short supply. Clearly deliveries had been affected and people were bulk buying. Some expats are leaving; others, like my Northern Irish friend, seem totally unaffected. "I was reared during the Troubles," says she. "It'll take more than a few protesters to frighten me."

As I write I am receiving reports that the Bahrain/Saudi causeway has been temporarily closed to allow a security force convoy across the water: the Bahrain government has asked for Saudi help in containing the protests.

The protesters have vowed not to give up until they have full democracy and a new government. But a large proportion of the population here supports the King and his ministers. So we watch and we wait.

And at least my car is insured.