BREAKING BREAD WITH A BOSOM BUDDY, MATE

THE doorbell rings just before 8am on a bright and sunny winter’s day in Doha.

I open the front door and exclaim: “You actually made it! I was beginning to think you’d taken a wrong turn and wandered off into the desert.”

The smile on the face of Shafiek, one of my oldest friends, is as wide as it is tired. “No worries, mate, all good. We just took the scenic route.”

Now it’s my turn to smile – at the Australian that’s crept into Shafiek’s speech. I guess it’s unavoidable after 10 years living in Brisbane. I’ll wait to see if he asks when we’re putting the shrimp on the barbie before I remind him of his roots.

The connection between our families was and is very strong – our fathers were close friends, and the bond continued through the generations. Growing up, Shafiek was actually closest to my older brother, Ahmed. They are a similar age, attended the same school, and could always be found together on the weekend. As the little brother, I would constantly hang around, trying to get a taste of the action.

I could not have been too annoying or perhaps Ahmed and Shafiek were very understanding

– I suspect the latter – because the friendship has survived.

Shafiek literally grew up around the corner from my childhood home in Cape Town. After a late night at our place, Ahmed and I would watch him sprint down the road to his house – the later the hour, the faster he’d go. Some nights, he looked like he was running the 100m final in the Olympics.

And now we find ourselves together thousands of kilometres from both our home towns, with Shafiek and his family having arranged their holiday to South Africa to include a short Doha stopover.

Their time with us is a whirlwind. Shihaam and I want Shafiek, his wife, Nafeza, and their two kids to experience the best of Doha during their short stay. We take in parks, the city by day, the city by night, the landmark Museum of Islamic Art, the Katara Cultual Village, the Corniche promenade and the man-made PearlQatar island. And, of course, a good few malls and even more good food. This is, after all, the Gulf.

“You really are spoilt for choice when it comes to eating options,” says Shafiek, having just finished our final meal together before the family head off to the airport to catch their flight to Cape Town.

I finish the last bite of my burger, lean over to give Shafiek a hug, and reply with a smile as wide as it is sad: “That’s true, but like an uncle of mine always used to say, it’s in the meeting, not the eating.”

Wherever you are in the world.

After a late night at our place, Ahmed and I would watch him sprint down the road – the later the hour, the faster he’d go. Some nights, he looked like he was running the 100m final in the Olympics