Seems every time residents of the capital get together, the conversation will turn to one of two topics – the weather and the traffic. Those are two things we always know the answer to.
Written by: Pat Salmon
In the same way that no one should be surprised when it’s hot – we live in the desert, what else would it be? – the traffic situation in the capital should come as no surprise.
We all understand that we can expect to see traffic on Salam Street pretty much any time of any day. It’s become Abu Dhabi’s heart of darkness due to the construction that we’ll all someday appreciate when we’re trying to get on to Reem Island. Anyone who’s ever tried getting into or out of Sas al Nakhl Village can applaud the effort of the city planners to get this one right the first time.
We also know why we can’t turn into the old downtown area of the city from Airport Road any further along than Hamdan – they’ve promised us that swish new souk (which will be nothing more than an upmarket shopping mall with a twist and nothing like a traditional souk at all in any real sense of the word).
But how did they get it so wrong with Mussaffah?
They’ve designated the area as Abu Dhabi’s principal industrial zone, which is why you buy your car at a glitzy showroom in the city and get it serviced in a giant workshop buried in Mussaffah’s identikit backstreets. And if you want to buy cement or camel feed or a gross of biros, Mussaffah is your place. It’s also surrounded by labour camps.
So there’s a grid system of parallel roads, dozens of them (and none with useful landmarks, let alone direction signs, but that’s another story). And it’s built on a six-lane highway to connect Mussaffah to Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Al Ain, Al Gharbia, and just about everywhere else. It must’ve looked great on paper.
But each and every morning, at the peak of rush hour (and not really before or after) there’s a mass of cars queuing on Khaleej al Arabi from Mussaffah bridge to the Mussaffah exit. Oddly, there’s similar congestion in the evening – not as bad, but not good.
I can understand the big trucks – the industrial moonscape of Mussaffah looks like something right out of a post-apocalyptic Mel Gibson movie. I understand that people who don’t live in Mussaffah need to go to work in the morning and people who do live there need to get home in the evening.
And if I can understand that, how did the city’s traffic planners get it so wrong?