Festive Cheer

It's never too early to talk about Christmas! Last night when on a safari wardrobe mission in Dubai Mall I was delighted to see that retailers are beginning to get the Christmas decs up. Hilariously, the trees and decs in Debenhams are right next to the bikinis - that's why I live in Dubai!

I didn't go for a tree last year - the fact that I have limited storage space combined with the fact that trees cost about as much as gold here put me off, but I have to say, this year I'm feeling the love. We'll see.

Either way, I'm already feeling festive. Last year was a complete novelty as my first festive period in a hot country, this year life is so much better in so many ways that I just can't wait..... Now I just need a copy of the Muppets Christmas Carol and a Motown christmas cd, and I'll be all set!

All Work but Lots of Play

I KNOW I’ve been far too quiet on the blog front recently. The usual excuse: I need an extra five hours in the day! I got lulled into a very false sense of security during Ramadan; my hours weren’t massively reduced but I definitely managed to leave early more often than not which meant a whole new world of socializing was available to me…..how things change back in the daily grind. Oh – and remember boot camp? Well somehow I thought it was a good idea (correction, my arse thought it was a good idea) to sign up for a month long programme where I have to go twice, yes twice a week. That means I have about hmmmmm one night to myself each week, throw in a few 12/14 hours days and I’m not much use to anyone! Anyway, rant over. It’s all good. Thank god for beach club at the weekends! Somehow memories of every insane week are erased as the white wine hits the glass, a celeb magazine is opened, and the sunlounger is flattened.

I don’t seem to have a free weekend until January – how did that happen? What with numerous overseas weekend visitors in the next month (you know who you are!), a music festival (more to follow), the small matter of my LUXURY ONCE IN A LIFETIME SAFARI TRIP (with our own private butler, just in case you’d forgotten that bit) then parents, then Cathy and New Year – where did the year go? I’m genuinely not complaining, you know me, I love being busy and like nothing more than a very full diary - especially when work is so unforgiving and all-consuming in the week. I’m not one for philosophy but there was a philosopher on Chris Evans this week who said: we worry about wasting time, wasting money, when the only thing that we should worry about wasting is our life.

I think I can safely say I’m wringing the absolute best out of every moment….

A Dog Called Ginger

Dogs are few and far between in Dubai, so when I meet them, it always makes me smile. There’s a fair few canines knocking around my complex, none so cute as a Jack Russell called Ginger. Ginger arrived about nine months ago and instantly bewitched residents and staff alike – weighing under a kilo (that’s 2 pounds, UK readers) she was a super cute and very tiny bundle of rocket fuel that found everything and anything THE MOST EXCITING THING IN THE WORLD!!!

So imagine my delight when I popped into my local spa the other night to be sat next to none other than: Ginger’s mum! We had a lovely chat about dogs/Ginger/life with Ginger/Ginger’s routines…you get the picture. Yes, I am a saddo. But to be honest it’s so rare to meet anyone who has a canine mindset that we had a lot to cover. The spa girls found this whole thing fascinating – dogs aren’t top of the priority list in their home countries. Apparently taking Ginger for a walk is a challenge in itself as all the ex-pats are (naturally) all over her like a rash. Bless. As I pointed out: if you can resist Ginger, there’s a brick swinging where your heart should be…..

To Sleep, Perchance to.....

I don't know what it is, but ever since I moved to Dubai, I've had the most insane and random dreams. In the main they're just extremely odd and unbelievably vivid, but sometimes they're horrific nightmares. I've no idea what causes them, and I can't say for sure that they're caused by Dubai, but I know I never experienced anything like this back in the UK. Here's a quick snapshot of some recent bizarre night time dream topics:

• Bats (a bat, living in my bedroom)
• Clowns (the hideous clown from the Stephen King 'IT' film. Eurgh)
• Snow
• Donkeys (one was giving birth and I was assisting)
• Strictly Come Dancing (having an affair with Brian Fortuna)
• Plane crash (which I was on)
• Stephen Gately (I was there with Boyzone when Ronan Keating confessed he murdered him. Note to self: is this a premonition?!)
• Cats in Car Chase (Frank clinging onto the back of a car with me in hot pursuit)

I like a good dream as much as the next person, but this is starting to get ridiculous.

"Hello...is that the loony bin? You've come to take me away, you say?? OK, I'll come quietly."



Give me strength!

Jog On!

Here’s a tip: after a month of zero exercise, an hour of gruelling boxing bootcamp might not be the best way to ease yourself back into mobility. But, never one to do things by halves, that’s exactly what I did last night.

You may remember that during Ramadan I was a lean mean gym machine, with at least four visits a week under my belt. Fast forward to normal working hours, where leaving the office at 7.30 pm is standard procedure, and my gym visits have dwindled somewhat. Call me old-fashioned, but after a long day I’m reaching for friends/wine/dinner, not the gym kit. Are you with me?!

The beauty of Dubai is that now the weather is getting colder (and by cold, I mean 34 during the day) it means that the evenings are positively gorgeous – 29 degrees last night. This means that all sorts of outdoor exercise and activity is now an option. Hence the bootcamp. There’s lots of these here – on the beach, in parks, all offering the chance to train in the fresh air (and in pubic view, which is why I’ve avoided them for so long.) But, to be fair, I have to say last night was an absolute hoot. I spent a large proportion of it laughing til I cried..(or was that the pain?)....

Yes, the first ten minutes were utter hell (my body really isn’t used to punching and kicking the living daylights out of someone after a 12 hour day) but we soon got the hang of it. Going with the girls made it all the more hilarious (what goes on at bootcamp, stays at bootcamp.) James, the cute burly instructor, did make a few sympathetic comments about our (lack of) ability: “Don’t worry, it doesn’t come naturally to some people”, and my favourite: “Oh, bless” after a wrong move saw me kick a dear friend almost in the groin. Sorry!

We left hot, tired, but feeling pretty virtuous. See you next week for more punishment!

Am I Getting Old?

An event invite popped into my in-box this morning. Nothing unusual about that. As with most cities, there's events every night of the week in Dubai. But my response was, perhaps not the usual:

It starts at what time???? (10 pm)

Who on earth is that dj????

On a Sunday??? (Sunday is the equivalent of our Monday here)

To be fair, my colleagues who we are also invited, and are a fair few (ahem) years younger than me, all had the same reaction. Not just me that's getting old then!

It's at the new Cavalli Club, opened by, yes you guessed it, Roberto Cavalli. I haven't been in yet (which is a shameful admission when it's been open for at least 4 months) so my curiosity to see just how over-blinged it is may outweigh my desire to stay in my pj's...will keep you posted.

Safari, So Good

Did I mention that I'm off on safari?! Yes, at the end of November we shall be jetting off to Nairobi (a bargain basement 180 flight from Dubai!) and then heading down to the Masai Mara for four nights. Just in case you're worried about me slumming it, we'll be staying in a lodge from the Conde Nast Gold List. They don't let any old Tom, Dick or Harry onto that list, you know.

We're talking boutique - just 14 tents, each with its own private butler. Well, after the team of staff in Sri Lanka it would be hard to do without them, non?

Lions, tigers and bears, oh my, are just a short drive away, and get this: there's a family of hippos in the river next to the tents. Treat!

It's something I've wanted to do my whole life, so needless to say, excitement is at fever pitch. There are of course, the crucial questions about what to wear/take with us, not to mention a few personal fears that I'm going to have to overcome. I can't even talk about the four/six legged/winged issue, and don't get me started on flying to the Mara in a plane the size of a postage stamp.

Today's trials included the yellow fever jab (and for those who saw me after the last lot of jabs in July, this could get ugly later) and discussing which malaria tablets are last likely to make you suicidal. Nice. Even better - the best one on the market, with no side effects, ISN'T AVAILABLE IN THE UAE. My doctor was very apologetic and suggested something else - but then revealed that he thought twice about taking them as they're supposed to be so bad.

Which begs the question: malaria: how bad can it be?!