Lost in Manama - 2014

When I first came to Bahrain I was told that it is impossible to get lost, it is such a small place, as long as you keep the sea to your left you will not go far wrong. Once on the ground, or more specifically on the road, most of this notion actually holds true, that is until you are trying to find anywhere specific in the urban melee that is Manama.

There are in fact at least 3 Manamas: one that is defined by historic forts and palaces and synonymous with Portugese or British rule thoughout the past centuries, in today’s Manama many of these are the associated with government and are identified by sentry guards with machine guns, standing outside closed gates set into the solid perimeter walls. The Second Manama is one that was largely built following independence from British rule in 1971, built in much the same manner as the reconstruction of post war Europe and is largely populated by Indian nationals and others from the Indian sub-continent and resembles much of what I have experienced in Colombo, Sri Lanka. The third Manama is one that is under construction following significant ‘reclamation’ from the sea, and is defined by highways and intersections, shopping malls and isolated developments, and is home to a combination of western and Arab expatriate populations, many living in the constant wave of new apartment blocks that are appearing. On a day to day basis it is the third Manama that I most interact with, driving from one development of reclaimed land at Awmaj Islands to another at Seef District along the ever changing network of highways.

A bit about the transformation: a study of historic maps reveals not only numerous ‘Manama’s but numerous ’Bahrain’s as the Northern Coastline appears to have been redrawn on a regular basis throughout the past century. From the formation of a port to build on the wealth from the Pearl trade, at the site now known as Bab al Bahrain, a car park now occupies what was the port. In subsequent years a pier stretched further and further northwards from Bab al Bahrain as the wealth was generated not from pearls, but oil, and the coastline gradually marched North to support a booming industry. A series of dramatic leaps Northward occur on the maps of the 1970s and 1980s in an ongoing ‘reclamation’ project. With the use of Google Earth, it is possible to see the scale and speed of development that has taken place.

For example in 2002, the King Faisal Highway that is my drive to work every day was in the sea, coral reefs are visible beneath the surface of the water, my place of work Seef District, although, the land is reclaimed is largely undeveloped, there are certainly none of the regular destinations:  City Centre Mall, Seef Mall or Bahrain Mall, and the area north of Sanabis resembles one large sandpit. Using the ‘Time Slider’ it is possible to view is the dramatic development. 2004 The coral reefs are beginning to be filled in, built over, destroyed and ironically the first artificial island to appear on the North Coast of Bahrain in 2005 is named Reef Island. The map also shows the formation of a group of islands to the North of Muharraq, an area now familiar to me, Amwaj Islands, ‘Amwaj’ derived from the Arabic for Shell. The towers that have become iconic and synonymous with Bahrain’s position on the world stage began to emerge from the sea in 2006, with the ongoing dredging, filling in, and formation of Bahrain Bay which became visible in 2007. By 2010 buildings began appearing on Bahrain bay the now vacant Arcapita building, the three towers known as the ‘twisted sisters’ emerged out of the new ground, only to cease twisting and stand as a monument to the financial crisis. In 2011, the Pearl Roundabout, disappeared as if to erase memories of events that occurred in the Arab spring. The corniche begins to emerge, landscaped parks appear between the highway and the new a sea front, by 2012 the parks are obliterated by the widening of the highway, two new hotel towers appear on the map that define the new skyline and Bahrain’s confidence as an international destination in the future, the Four Seasons on its little island as the centre piece of Bahrain Bay, and the Wyndham Grand. 

With activity concentrated along the King Faisal Highway, there is little need to enter the older city. Highways cut through the city result in a number of awkward intersections, and a drive off one of the intersections of on one of the rare occasions where there is a need to drive in the second Manama, life gets more interesting and it is less a matter of getting lost, and more a case of getting frustrated by the road network that prevents you from getting to where you need to. A classic case of car dependent culture being superimposed on the historic fabric of narrow streets and small scale blocks: what was once an urban fabric derived from being able to walk between blocks, through a network of narrow alleys to afford some protection from the heat in the shadows cast by adjacent buildings. The urban plane is dominated by  10-12 storey concrete framed blocks that meet the ground very awkwardly, usually defined by a forest of columns supporting the apartments over what invariably becomes a chaotic jumble of parked cars. The shaded alleys have all but disappeared in some areas to be replaced by parked cars. Others, replaced by an unintelligible one way system, roads are barely wide enough to drive down, past all the parked cars, sidewalks are practically non-existent and local shops open directly onto the road. As a visitor, there are very few places to park your car if you were adventurous enough to try to walk in amongst the slow moving traffic, the result: driving around in circles in a constant stream of slow moving traffic. Navigation ends up being dependent on the micro scale, based on local knowledge of shops in a specific area as any of the urban landmarks are obscured by the monotonous realm of apartment blocks and parked cars.  It becomes almost impossible to see where you are going as the search for landmarks is superseded by the avoidance of parked cars, moving cars and pedestrians all while having somebody driving six inches off your back bumper, with a tendency to beep the horn at every opportunity, and then some more just in case.

At Seef, a district that has been built on the top of coral reefs, the same problem is being replicated as the sporadic development is following the same priorities. The development regulations are such that you have to provide car parking on your development site, meaning that recent developments will comprise a parking podium of usually 4 to 5 storeys, built right up to the property line, with offices or apartments in a narrower block, respecting the setbacks imposed by the regulations, sitting on top. The result being chaos at ground level dominated by parked cars, precious little space to walk and even less landscape. A few blocks are hotels which do have manicured lawns at the front along with its myriad of flagpoles, signage totems and decorative planting, marooned in a sea of dust, asphalt and parked cars.

Where development is yet to happen, large areas of sand are largely covered by parked cars, that will surely add to the problem when these areas become developed. Conversely the transformation is following a strategic vision aimed at creating an international city by the year 2030, this includes a high speed rail link to a route that is currently in development from Kuwait to Muscat, and includes a link to Qatar. A metro system, an integrated network of buses, trams and monorail, will surely provide an interesting dynamic to the selection of apartment locations. It will be interesting to see how these development occur and how much of the vision survives into realization.  On reflection it is not so much a case of being lost in Manama, but it may be Manama being lost within and constantly having to adjust to its own transformation.