From the desk of Rupert Wright: Battling banks, and losing

Focus: When you think banking cannot get any worse, they lose your money. And then charge you for it.

I may have mentioned last week that my relationship with my bank, hitherto cordial, had taken a turn for the worse. This week, I hate them even more. A couple of weeks ago, I borrowed a decent sum of money from them, partly to pay my daughter's school fees in England. They asked for arrangement fees, insurance and an interest rate considerably more than the European Central Bank is charging the Greeks, who have no money at all, not even a drachma. I concurred. Then I transferred the money to my English branch. And waited. And waited for it to arrive. After 10 days, I phoned my branch here and said:

"There is a problem with the transfer. It has left my account in Abu Dhabi, but failed to make its way to Tunbridge Wells. Could you tell me what's happened?" My personal account manager was on a day off, but I was phoned by a sweet-sounding Indian female voice. I patiently explained the tedious tale and expected an apology followed by a determination to find the missing cash at the earliest opportunity. Instead she said:

"That will cost you Dh150 [US40.83]."

"You are not trying to tell me," I said with as much patience as a man about to explode can muster, "that you are seriously contemplating charging me for finding the money that you lent me that you have lost?"

That's exactly what she was telling me. And they wonder why nobody likes bankers. Occupy Wall Street might even reach Hamdan Street or Airport Road. At least it will if I get my way.

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The Abu Dhabi Film Festival started last night, and I went along ahead of time to hear which stars were coming to town. I was hoping to meet Uma Thurman, but apparently she came last year. Peter Scarlet, the festival director, reminded us of the distinction between tragedy and comedy. "Tragedy is when I slip and fall on my face; comedy is when you slip and fall over." I was rather hoping he might demonstrate this: my favourite actors are silent ones, who fall over in awkward positions.

He is promising a week of films that will challenge as well as entertain and that, above all, are "not stupid". I am delighted to hear this. There is enough stupidity in the world, particularly in the banking sector. Mr Scarlet also pointed out that a festival is not just about deals but about making connections. "There is an obsession with deals," he said. "But a festival is not about just deals, but friendships, the exchange of ideas, and sometimes miracles happen."

On that basis, the Greeks might finally find some money, or even more miraculous, my bank might find mine. I am not counting on it, though.

One of my colleagues at the film festival event was mistaken by a young lady for a famous Iraqi actor. The only time he shows any acting skills is on the football pitch, or in conference. But you have to say these luvvies are much more willing to make contact than say, investment bankers. As I was waiting at the reception at the Fairmont Bab Al Bahr for my car to arrive, I held my jacket over my arm.

"Is that a Paul Smith suit?" asked a fellow with a goatee and a film festival badge. "No," I said. "On my salary that really would be a miracle."

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Kim Kardashian is in town to make the world's most expensive milkshake. I thought about going to Dubai to see what all the fuss was about, then realised that I don't know who Kim Kardashian is and don't like milkshakes. But is it possible that she has got my money?