 "graph")
It’s a magical, massive dome high above, seemingly floating in mid-air. Miraculously, even though Abu Dhabi’s blinding 46 degrees of sunlight is peeping through thousands of lattices in the ceiling, it is cool and breezy underneath. The filigreed dome casts playful shadows on the floor, as its Pritzker-winning architect Jean Nouvel envisaged, like the desert sun filtering through the fronds of a palm tree. Beyond, the Arabian Sea enters the Louvre’s portals, a constant wash of shimmery stillness. Mesmerised by the sight, I rest my feet after a morning spent exploring its galleries.
Yet, somehow, a sense of disappointment lingers.
