Lost in Bahrain

AS anyone who has just moved to Bahrain will know, the first piece of advice that is dished out to the newcomer is ‘you must have a car,’ and the second is ‘driving is to be avoided if at all possible.’ 

Driving in a new country and, for us Brits, on the other side of the road, can be confusing and the spirited motoring techniques on show in Bahrain require super vision and reflexes.
And for those of us with a limited sense of direction it’s astonishingly easy to get lost on an island that’s only 30 miles long and 12 miles wide.
To the uninitiated, a trip to the shops can very easily end up at the Saudi border.
This isn’t surprising considering every road in the kingdom appears to lead to Saudi Arabia or the Bahrain International Circuit.
So just when you think you’ve found your way, you end up, once again, circling the island like a geriatric Nigel Mansell.
What makes things worse is that the slightest reduction in speed to check road-signs causes at the very least a great deal of horn blowing, and at the worst, an uncomfortable few minutes of tailgating – often performed by a terrifyingly large lorry in a hurry.
But fortunately for me, during my first weeks in Bahrain, MTC-Vodafone launched M-Guide – a facility that allows you to receive driving directions from one point in Bahrain to another via text message.
When the press release announcing the service landed on my desk three weeks ago, I thought my directional troubles were over.
‘M-guide,’ it said, ‘will be especially useful for those who are new to Bahrain.’
At the touch of a button, MTC-Vodafone users can receive directions or pocket maps, at a cost of 200 fils per message.
An agreement with Geomatic – the organisation that houses all road data and digital maps in Bahrain – has allowed an incredibly intricate service to be created, with a comprehensive geographically-coded list of hotels, restaurants, banks, shopping malls, companies and street addresses.
As long as I had a phone, I thought, I certainly wouldn’t end up lost in the desert.
As I sat in the car park in Seef Mall waiting for my first set of directions to be sent to my phone, an over-eager driver rear-ended my hire car, and then with remarkable dexterity, sped off through a throng of cars queuing for the exit.
A good start, I thought.
But sure enough within a minute of requesting directions, an incredibly detailed set of directions arrived in my inbox.
“From Seef Mall, start on Road 2819, after 65 metres take the second exit from roundabout on Road 2819, after 110 metres turn left at traffic light on Avenue 40, after 500 metres...”
I started out well, easily finding Road 2819, but by the time I was supposed to be on Avenue 40, I had turned onto an obscure nameless highway. And, repeatedly checking my mobile whilst negotiating the evening rush-hour traffic meant having to stop the car and pull over. The fine for driving while on your phone is now BD50.
The problem is that road numbers don’t mean a great deal to the newcomer, and they aren’t always clearly signed.
My next experience wasn’t any more fruitful. It’s easy enough to find your way to the airport because like the BIC it’s one of Bahrain’s better-signed landmarks, but finding your way back to the GulfWeekly offices in lunch-time traffic isn’t.
After reading through a meaningless set of directions that included a list of roads ambiguously named 2403, 2404, 3801, I requested a ‘pocket map’ instead.
Unfortunately my phone couldn’t access the map, which was supposed to be sent as an attachment. So I asked a colleague to try. But the response he received was “The police messaging system has been temporarily suspended – find updated information posted at www.police.uk”
So this time I relied on his somewhat ropey directions and a lot of rolling down my window and asking bemused, but extremely helpful, drivers stuck in traffic for directions.
Driving at night in central Manama is perhaps the biggest challenge to the newcomer. An evening assignment at La Fontaine Centre of Contemporary Art, deep in the heart of Manama, left me relentlessly circling the narrow streets of the suq.
M-Guide failed to recognise La Fontaine without a street address, so once again I relied on the most ancient and reliable form of directions – asking someone from the street.
Another problem with the facility is that in order to find your way to someone’s house, a restaurant, or a less-well-known building, you must supply the block, road, and house address. However strange it may seem, not everyone here knows their exact address, often rendering the service obsolete.
It appears that M-Guide has some way to go. It’s an innovative idea with a lot of potential, but to the newcomer, it can be more confusing than useful.
If landmarks were supplied along with road numbers and names, then the text-messaging service would be far more practical; the Grand Mosque means a lot more to the newcomer than Osama Bin Zaid Avenue.
However, the system’s vast database of roads and addresses means that for someone who has lived in Bahrain for a while, the service could be a convenient way to find a new area.
As Bahrain constantly spirals upwards and outwards, MTC-Vodafone’s partnership with Geomatic means that customers will be able to locate new places that have yet to be added to the maps.  
To a newcomer however, I would advise that you simply concentrate on your driving.
For the technologically inept, M-Guide will not prove as simple as it seems, and for the directionally-bungling driver, you’re far better off relying on an understanding colleague. Or you could simply buy a map.