Life in the fast lane

MIDDLE EAST:Fifty years ago, Abu Dhabi was a small fishing port; now it is a brash, booming metropolis, and Ferrari World is its latest attraction. Frank McNallygoes on a grand prix tour but declines a ride on the world's fastest roller coaster

THERE ARE TWO main religions in Abu Dhabi, although only one of them is formally acknowledged. This is, of course, Islam, in honour of which the city’s recent building boom has included the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque: a vast marble-covered structure with 82 gold-topped domes and praying space for 40,000.

The other, unofficial religion centres on the motor car, and through it on the oil that, barely half a century ago, transformed Abu Dhabi from a fishing and pearling town into the world’s richest city. The cult of the car touches all aspects of life here. Everywhere you look, there is a model even more luxurious than the last one. But what was lacking in the city until recently was a formal place of worship.

With Ferrari World, this imbalance has been belatedly redressed, and to an extent that makes the Sheikh Zayed mosque look cosy. The theme park’s roof alone – now the stand-out landmark as you fly into the city – boasts a bewildering range of statistics: many of them clearly aimed at Americans.

The structure’s diameter is said to be twice the longest span of the Brooklyn Bridge, “or about the length of seven Statues of Liberty, if they were laid out ‘head to toe’ ”. Even the roof’s Ferrari logo is huge: 3,000 sq m, or the size of “seven basketball courts”. And so on . . .

Under this record-breaking ceiling is a cathedral dedicated to speed and G-forces, with the famous Italian racing car as a unifying theme. Its creators get straight to the point with an attraction called Formula Rossa: the world’s new fastest roller-coaster, which accelerates from nought to 150mph in five seconds, the last part up a 50m slope.

Call me a big-girl’s-blouse, but even on a good day, I would not touch such a roller-coaster with a 40ft pole. On the official opening night last month, we were told that the ride was experiencing last-minute technical problems. After learning this, I would not have touched it with 70 40ft poles, laid out head to toe.

Incredibly, there was no shortage of volunteers queuing up on those sporadic occasions during the evening when the ride was given the all-clear by engineers. In fact, for one of my speed-loving fellow travellers, going on the roller-coaster became the holy grail of his entire Abu Dhabi pilgrimage.

Cruelly, at one point, he got so far as being strapped into the seat and was edged slowly on to the runway, bracing himself for the surge. Then the technical problems re-emerged and the ride was aborted, leaving him distraught. As for me, the nearest I got to the experience was interviewing someone who’d just dismounted. He told me it went so fast you couldn’t scream. “I’m really glad I did it,” he added. “But once was enough.”

The chance to chicken out of the other headline attraction did not even arise on opening night. A 62-metre “tower of speed”, this promises to propel passengers vertically, up through the afore-mentioned roof, at similarly violent speed. At the top, there is brief opportunity to view the city panorama (and await the delayed arrival of your stomach), before the equally brisk return journey to earth. I assured anyone who would listen that I would definitely have gone on that ride: but only after learning that there was no prospect of it opening while we were there.

Ferrari World is not all about thrills and speed. At the other extreme, for small children and the faint-hearted, there is Bell’Italia, a miniature Italy through which you can drive very slowly in a scaled down vintage Ferrari: passing Venice, the Colosseum, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa en route. There’s even a version of the old-fashioned carousel, with horse-power (Ferrari, of course) instead of horses. And among the rides offering simulated racing-car experiences, there is a cinema and museum devoted to the real thing. Unlike the official religion, this one has no bar on idolatry. So you can pay homage to a series of classic Ferraris, including one of the chariots in which Michael Schumacher ascended to the world championship.

Then there’s the souvenir shop. Which, if you need to buy something for the car lover in your life and you’re any way price-sensitive, could be the scariest part of the experience. You might pick up a mug or a baseball cap for less than €20. But a children’s T-shirt costs nearer €50. And being a certified wimp, I couldn’t even bear to look at the price tags on the model cars.

Big as it is, Ferrari World is not Abu Dhabi’s only place of pilgrimage for speedsters. Since 2009, the city has also hosted a Formula One track: the Yas Marina circuit, which last weekend saw Sebastian Vettel claim this year’s Formula One title. If you stay at the Yas Hotel – not cheap, even when there isn’t a grand prix on – you can watch the action without going anywhere, since the track runs through the building. And when there are no races happening, guests can drive the course, in suitably fast, rented cars.

The hotel, the race-track, Ferrari World, even the Sheikh Zayed Mosque, are all part of a huge construction programme through which Abu Dhabi is attempting to reposition itself as a tourist attraction. Not quite like Dubai, the locals say, masking a slight disdain for their brash neighbour, whose reinvention was forced on it by fast-falling oil reserves.

Abu Dhabi has no such worries. In its more considered redesign, the emphasis is on elite and niche tourism. Hence, for example, the planned cultural quarter, with local versions of the Louvre and Guggenheim and even a Sorbonne University. But, of course, it will be the world’s largest cultural quarter. And wherever you go in Abu Dhabi, you are reminded that here, as in Dubai, size matters. Even the mosque claims its share of world records: including the biggest crystal chandelier and the biggest carpet (made in Iran, by 1,200 women). Then there’s the city’s plushest hotel, the Emirates Palace, which not only boasts a butler in every room. It also has a dome bigger than the one on London’s St Paul’s Cathedral.

Among the other new signature buildings, meanwhile, is Capital Gate: a relatively modest 35-storeys, except that it’s built 18 degrees out of vertical. “The Leaning Tower of Abu Dhabi”, they call it. And yes, sure enough, its lean is bigger than Pisa’s.

It was only in the 1970s that oil wealth and a sheikh with a vision created this high-rise modern metropolis, with such delights as the Abu Dhabi Mall: a sprawling, three-storey shopping complex where every chain store on Earth is represented and you can buy just about anything (except, in my frustrated experience, a souvenir of Abu Dhabi).

Now, the next phase of the city’s globalisation is being pursued with the same vigour. And with a fast-expanding international airline – Etihad, created from nothing in 2003 – to fly with, no doubt the world will flock to this new tourist Mecca, as planned.

In the meantime, there are still some traditional attractions in Abu Dhabi the charms of which are hard to beat. Fresh from wimping out of Ferrari World’s extreme thrills, I went on a desert safari, which, in keeping with most things here, had a big motoring element. As soon as we left tarmac, the driver turned into a lunatic, hurtling our four-wheel drive jeep across the sand at bone-shaking speed. Then, after stopping to let some air out of the tyres – for increased grip – he took us on a slalom-ride of the sand dunes: ascending, descending, and skidding from side to side at angles you would elsewhere experience only in a fairground.

It was too much for one of our American passengers, who was moaning like a man in pain as soon as we left the road and eventually curtailed the driver’s skills exhibition by threatening to be sick. So, having survived that experience without protest, I was already feeling better about myself, even before the desert’s ultimate thrill ride. This was all the more daunting because, by contrast with the roller coaster, you had to sign a disclaimer before boarding. Moments later I was on top of a vehicle boasting an impressive one camel-power and capable of accelerating from nought to five mph in less than 10 seconds.

Truth to tell, the scariest bit was getting down again. “Hold on tight and lean back,” I was advised, although nothing quite prepares you for the bit where your camel kneels. Still, I held my nerve and dismounted without screaming, even once. And call me reckless, but I’d do it again tomorrow.