Don't disturb The Walk at JBR
To all the thousands of drivers out there, the residents are begging you to show a little consideration
A view of The Walk at Jumeirah Beach Residence in Dubai, which has been overwhelmed by the near-deafening, tinnitus-inducing cacophony of honks and beeps as cars cruise down The Walk.
Source: Gulfnews
A view of The Walk at Jumeirah Beach Residence in Dubai, which has been overwhelmed by the near-deafening, tinnitus-inducing cacophony of honks and beeps as cars cruise down The Walk.
A cool breeze stirs along the sea front; terraces are bustling, refreshing iced coffee drinks are whipped up by the skilful hands of some of the city's busiest baristas, couples stroll and children frolic within easy distance of their laid-back parents. Or so it should be.
This is The Walk in Jumeirah Beach Residence (JBR) and while the beautiful weather brings people here from far and wide, it also brings a less welcome visitor — the near-deafening, tinnitus-inducing cacophony of honks and beeps of cars cruising along The Walk.
And there is the irony — The Walk is perpetually and permanently dominated by cars! Thousands of cars of all shapes and sizes, with a variety of melodious car horns. The average ambler may not notice this phenomenon. Strolling around, ice cream in hand, it could escape notice that JBR is not just another acronym but does in fact stand for Jumeirah Beach ‘Residence'. People actually live here, children sleep here, and peace and quiet is needed here.
Speaking as one of the aforementioned residents, I write this as my pictures shake in their frames and my glasses clink merrily together in the cupboard. Many floors above the noisy The Walk traffic, families try to live normal lives.
We battle on a daily basis as many as 400 vehicles every hour, trying in vain to shuffle their way along a single lane of quaintly paved cobbles, which should ideally be only for pedestrians.
Over the Eid holiday and in fact every weekend at this time of year, there are innocently ignorant drivers who think it will be great idea to coast around the thin strip of road, speakers blasting out and honking continuously. They forget that this is our home.
On numerous occasions, we have resorted to calling the authorities, or to shouting "Shut up!" very loudly out on the balconies — an action that results in little more than a hoarse voice and a strange cathartic release of pent-up aggression.
Others make a huge banner imploring all who read it to stop and as a last resort, finally turn up the volume on their stereos, hoping that the might of a home theatre system might drown out the honking. It doesn't. To all the thousands of drivers out there, the residents of JBR are begging you to show a little consideration.
Do we come to your house and honk for three long minutes at 2.30am just to demonstrate our frustration that other cars are in front of us? Do we come and play a music track at frighteningly loud decibels outside your bedroom window? No, we don't.
We don't serenade you nightly with the caterwauling of horns. We don't block your drive so it takes hours to crawl the last 100 metres home from work at night.
Share the JBR love — please do. But please respect the needs of its residents and maybe just walk.
This is The Walk in Jumeirah Beach Residence (JBR) and while the beautiful weather brings people here from far and wide, it also brings a less welcome visitor — the near-deafening, tinnitus-inducing cacophony of honks and beeps of cars cruising along The Walk.
And there is the irony — The Walk is perpetually and permanently dominated by cars! Thousands of cars of all shapes and sizes, with a variety of melodious car horns. The average ambler may not notice this phenomenon. Strolling around, ice cream in hand, it could escape notice that JBR is not just another acronym but does in fact stand for Jumeirah Beach ‘Residence'. People actually live here, children sleep here, and peace and quiet is needed here.
Speaking as one of the aforementioned residents, I write this as my pictures shake in their frames and my glasses clink merrily together in the cupboard. Many floors above the noisy The Walk traffic, families try to live normal lives.
We battle on a daily basis as many as 400 vehicles every hour, trying in vain to shuffle their way along a single lane of quaintly paved cobbles, which should ideally be only for pedestrians.
Over the Eid holiday and in fact every weekend at this time of year, there are innocently ignorant drivers who think it will be great idea to coast around the thin strip of road, speakers blasting out and honking continuously. They forget that this is our home.
On numerous occasions, we have resorted to calling the authorities, or to shouting "Shut up!" very loudly out on the balconies — an action that results in little more than a hoarse voice and a strange cathartic release of pent-up aggression.
Others make a huge banner imploring all who read it to stop and as a last resort, finally turn up the volume on their stereos, hoping that the might of a home theatre system might drown out the honking. It doesn't. To all the thousands of drivers out there, the residents of JBR are begging you to show a little consideration.
Do we come to your house and honk for three long minutes at 2.30am just to demonstrate our frustration that other cars are in front of us? Do we come and play a music track at frighteningly loud decibels outside your bedroom window? No, we don't.
We don't serenade you nightly with the caterwauling of horns. We don't block your drive so it takes hours to crawl the last 100 metres home from work at night.
Share the JBR love — please do. But please respect the needs of its residents and maybe just walk.
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