JEDDAH, 15 June 2004 — I remember a friend of mine saying that for all its attractions, London lacks the character and fragrance of other cities around the world. Now that I am in Jeddah I understand what he meant.

Jeddah is the home of alternative perfume. When walking in the streets the smells of “Eau de Feline Litter” and “Essence of Rotting Fruit” all waft past your nose, coming out of ignored and neglected rubbish skips left in the middle of the road.

It’s a shame because the way Jeddah has developed and is developing is rather impressive. It’s a seaside city that has turned into a sprawling metropolis. Parts of Jeddah, such as the Corniche, are wonderful and are enjoyable to walk along and look out at the sea.

So a few days ago, I decided to attempt to lose some weight and walk for an hour or so every evening. Unfortunately, it transpired that Jeddah is not a walker-friendly place. Whilst my initial explanation for this was the fear of gigantic speeding six-liter MPVs striking fear into the hearts of pedestrians, it seems I was only partially correct. Wherever I decided to walk, I was attacked by the most noxious smells from rubbish skips.

Rubbish bins have a majestic presence on the streets of Jeddah, causing all cars, whether large or small, to slow down, pay their regards and carefully drive round them. If you are a pedestrian not only do you have to pay your respects - you are also forced to inhale the fumes that emanate from the monsters.

Given the large population, it is difficult to walk into any street without being given an unforgettable sample of Jeddah’s answer to Jean Paul Gaultier. The only positive outcome I have seen is the colonization of these beasts by thousands of cats who are seemingly immune to these odors.

So I gave up my walking program as my nose was taking a real bashing and decided to go and sit on the beach - you never know, all that fresh sea air might do me good. But sitting on the beach was also a strange experience. It seems normal to leave your place littered with the remains of the gathering you were part of. It is not done out of hate for mother nature, as one man pointed out to me when I asked him why he just flung down his water bottle, snickers wrapper and cigarette box. He explained there are Indians who come at night and clean the place.

Indians. Amazing stuff. If only I had Indians who cleaned my bedroom every day. Then all the bits of paper and wrappers would have been taken care of and, believe me, I would have made it difficult for them - even for the army that comes every night on Jeddah’s beaches.

Looking back at my week’s adventures, it seems that people here take two things for granted — someone cleaning up after them and no accountability for their actions. Don’t cleaners have their hands full cleaning up garbage that has accumulated accidentally? And shouldn’t people be fined for directly damaging part of what is one of the world’s most valuable and vulnerable natural coastlines?

Maybe it’s a lack of environmental appreciation or maybe society here is soft on litterbugs — but now I miss London’s lack of fragrance.