A tale of three cities

Then I remember that parts of London - along the Thames west of Battersea, the parks and museums, one or two of the leafier suburbs - can be quite special

To have lived more or less consecutively in London, Paris and Abu Dhabi is no big deal in an age when some people own homes concurrently in all three, or some other permutation of smart capitals. But I have lately been thinking a lot about two of my trio, those where I no longer reside. What do I miss about them? What am I perfectly happy to do without? Many people have strong views on London and Paris; they either love or loathe them. My own outlook is more ambivalent.

Whenever reminded of London's street crime, grim yob culture and dodgy public services, I find myself inclined to forgive Abu Dhabi its interminable bureaucracy, insatiable landlords and the hit-and-miss taxi service that passes, for now, for a public transport system. Then I remember that I have daughters and close friends in the UK capital, and that parts of it - beside the Thames west of Battersea, the parks and museums, one or two of the leafier suburbs - can be quite special. I was going to add that it's also a lot nearer my football team, but they are still at the other end of the country and I have managed to see more of them here, albeit on television, than at any time since boyhood.

But what of Paris? I have returned only once since leaving at the end of 2006. My wife, though French, has expressed little interest in going back at all. But watching, once again, the film - or, rather, collection of short films - Paris, je t'aime a week or so ago brought back good memories. Listening to colleagues, gushing with praise on returning from Paris breaks, has sharpened the nostalgic musings. Suddenly, I want to be on the lac inférieur of the Bois de Boulogne by day, the Seine by night, in cosy bistros off the beaten path, jazz clubs on the Left Bank, even the Père Lachaise celeb cemetery. But then I recall how tawdry the Champs-Elysées has become, how ubiquitous the beggars are, how - well - Parisian the Parisians can be, how menacing the banlieue is. Not to mention interminable bureaucracy, French style.

And how will I look back on Abu Dhabi when the time comes to move on? Will I ruminate only on grumbles about accommodation, or will I also reflect on all those signs of opportunity, innovation and challenge to be found here? Branches of the Sorbonne and Louvre will never make Abu Dhabi the post-Beirut Paris of the Middle East, any more than the Imperial College or sponsorship of Chelsea FC will turn it into London. But why would Abu Dhabi want to be what it is not? My guess is that once it has got to grips with the things it needs to do better, from sensible rents to available schools and decent public transport, tough as it may be to deliver, it will have created a strong, modern and impressive identity of its own.

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