LONDON – Some years ago – at the start of the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003 – I got to spend a chunk of time in a little peninsula on the Persian Gulf called Qatar.

It was actually about eight weeks, though I have to say it felt like a lifetime.

The first few days seemed to be dominated by a very important question: How the heck do you pronounce the name of the place?
There were those on our team who insisted it was “Gutter,” for reasons I could never quite fathom. One even argued for “Guitar.”

So we sought the advice of an eminent local academic, who told us it was, well, Qatar (like “Cutter”).
It was a strange kind of place in those days, with little to do for Westerners apart from party, sail and party some more.

‘Mostly flat and barren desert’ – with money
According to the CIA World Factbook (one of my favorite sources) Qatar is about the size of Connecticut, but I am sorry to say, in my experience, even more boring. The Factbook gives an apt description of  its geography being “mostly flat and barren desert covered in loose sand and gravel.”

What rampaging hordes of the world’s soccer fans will make of it is anybody’s guess.
At first glance this Middle Eastern emirate is an ostentatious mirage on the shores of the Persian Gulf. Its natural resources of oil and gas have made it one of the richest places on the planet. Its per capita income is second only to Liechtenstein (which, according to my trusty CIA Factbook, is even smaller, about the size of Washington, D.C.).

In other words, Qatar is awash with money.

Around its Mediterranean-style corniche, luxury hotels and apartment blocks have sprung up faster than watercress on a damp paper towel. What they can’t grow locally – and that’s most things – they import, including six American college campuses. As well as Starbucks, Kentucky Fried Chicken and – rather more intriguing in a country where most women wear traditional Arab garb – Victoria's Secret.

Hotel drinks and censored movies
Just outside Doha is the region’s biggest military landing strip. The joke doing the rounds just before the war – told to me by a Qatari – asked why they needed a huge military airbase when they didn’t have an air force. Answer:  In this part of the world, when you have a big airfield, you get an air force for free.

That explained the large numbers of U.S. Air Force aircraft that were always parked on the tarmac.
And that was why I was there – reporting the war from Centcom (Central Command) – the U.S. forward headquarters for Operation Iraqi Freedom.

When we weren’t working, which was most of the time, we went out to the various plush hotels, where foreigners could buy alcohol in the bars and restaurants.

It wasn’t for sale to the locals – it’s a Muslim country after all – but we knew of several Indian or Pakistani drivers who every week would be sent down to Doha’s only liquor store on behalf of their employers.

On one of our few nights off, we went to a movie theater to watch “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” a film that I remember most for jarring jump cuts anytime the two lovers puckered up to kiss. The censor had been busy with his scissors.

A place for rabid soccer fans?
Much no doubt has changed since then.

But if you’ve ever been in a European or South American city on the night of a big soccer game, you will know how far the fans will go in their behavior, how drunk they can be, how scantily they can dress – and how far Qatar will have to shift to meet them.

I remember well the comment made to me by a high-ranking government official when I went to ask for a relaxation of the visa regulations. 
At that time we had to renew every three weeks by leaving the country, flying to Dubai, and coming straight back on the same plane. We didn’t even stop for a coffee.

So I went to argue my case.

It was, said the official, not an easy thing. The secret service had insisted on one-week visas for journalists. Three weeks was an exceptional allowance.
“The truth is, Chris,” he said slowly, leaning across his desk so he could barely be heard, “in three weeks you can see every grain of sand in Qatar. Twice.”