31 Days of Sobriety

Hello, old friend...

No judgement, no superiority, no smugness, just a few things you notice when you stop drinking for ONE WHOLE MONTH:

Non-Alcoholic Drinks Can Bore Off

What do you drink if you’re out and you’re not drinking grape? I’m not a soft drink lover (with the occasional exception of ginger ale – yes, I am 90) and not a massive fan of imbibing pints of liquid at the best of times.  Which leads me onto….

Bar Staff in Dubai Have Never Heard of Lime and Soda

Honestly, try asking for this in a bar. At best you will get a glass of soda water with a cursory bit or lime – or lemon – thrown in. At worst you will get a half pint of cider. Yes, CIDER. Shudder.

You Don’t Need Water by the Bed

The usual routine of the pint glass of water at the end of the night is rendered obsolete. Obviously if the house was burning down it might come in handy, but when retiring to bed sober, there is no rapacious need for cold, delicious aqua at 4 am.

(At the start of the month) You Question Your Mother Potential

"How do women give up wine for nine months?" you  ask yourself, whilst looking anxiously over your shoulder for social services.

(Towards the end of the month) You Start To Consider a Life of Zero Alcohol

Once through the initial shock of not reaching for the juice box when you fall through the door from work, and have settled into a level of calm resignation, crazy thoughts occur to you such as:

·         “Maybe I could be sober ALL THE TIME?”

·         “Is this what Russell Brand feels like?”

·         “Perhaps I could live in Saudi after all.”

There were more observations but I'm too busy reaching for the fizz to type them....

On the Wagon

Ho ho!

I had a tradition back in the UK where each year I had a dry January. After stuffing my face with everything in sight, both food and liquid, during December, this was actually a blessed relief. And as many of my friends were either doing the same thing, or watching their finances after a festive blow-out, I usually succeeded.

Last year in Dubai I managed to stay dry for exactly half the month.  Which as I mentioned in my blog at the time, is not bad going in Dubai, where so much socializing revolves around licensed premises, and 12 hour working days can drive you straight to the fridge when you eventually stagger home from the office.

So far I’m 16 days in without a drink. I’ve survived a weekend away, dinner at Frankie’s, dinner at Ravi’s (both are usually happily oiled with vino) and even an art event where it took all of my resolve to resist the (free! free!) champagne.  A lot of people seem to be in training for something this year, or making more of a conscious effort to be healthy. 

But this year I’ve noticed something different about my UK chums: they’re not only eschewing the dry month,  but embracing being wet. A few comments from friends:

• Man down....had half bottle of red ...I may be a loser but am feeling great...
• I am realistic about what I can and can't give up - wine is not a thing I can live without. I have cut down (no booze Monday - Thursday) but I cannot cut out.

I’m not going to lie, I’ve been close, camel’s-whisker-close to cracking and ordering a glass of something infinitely more interesting that lime and soda. Somehow I’ve managed not to. Watch this space.

You've Been in Dubai Too Long When....

Wine: More Expensive than Gold. Almost.

There’s a standard saying here in Dubai: “You know you’ve been in Dubai too long when…”  The joke is usually rolled out in situations when you need a sense check on things, eg when you reveal that you don’t own an iron and haven’t ironed anything since you moved here three years ago. (I HATE ironing, ok!?  And it’s super cheap here!)

Two recent incidents when this phrase was needed:

Incident One: A friend has moved out of her apartment and is still waiting for her deposit to be returned.  She commented: “At the end of the day. It’s only 5000 dirhams, but it’s the principle.”

Incident Two: Discussing a popular bar in the Financial District, I found myself saying: “And the great thing is, wine is only 35 dirhams a glass.”

To clarify why these show that you’ve been in Dubai too long: the rent deposit being discussed:  850 quid.  The wine being discussed: 6 quid a glass.

Taking pause and reflecting for a moment: the rent deposit is a huge amount of money.  And six quid for a glass of wine is much more than you’d pay in the UK.  So why are we so blasé about them now?

In our defence, when your rent is double what you’d pay in the UK for a similar property, and used to be quadruple, you can get a little complacent.   And when a bog standard bottle of Jacob’s Creek can retail for over 40 quid in a restaurant , you do start viewing drinks prices on a different scale. 

But still…..when there are so many simple pleasures in Dubai (beautiful parks and abra rides that cost 50p) you really should try to cling onto some perspective.  Just don’t make me do my own ironing, ok?

Showing Restraint

There's lots of these in Dubai...

Every year I have a tradition in January.  I never make resolutions - if you know me personally, you'll know that I love objectives and lists and always have plenty on the go, so no need to make any just because it's a new year (hello, control freak did someone shout?!).  This tradition is all about alcohol.  Abstaining from.  I used to do this with religious vigour when I lived in Manchester. No, really!

December was always debauched in the extreme, what with entertaining clients/journalists, enjoying the gifts from clients/journalists, celebrating the actual festive days, all culminating in New Year's Eve.  This usually meant that by January 1st, I'd struggle to imbibe even a glass of Vintage Dom Pom.  Served by the Clooney.  (Ok, I'd have to be dead to resist him.)

Now, call me old-fashioned, call the AA, but this usually meant that I didn't venture out much socially in January.  Whilst I can deal with sitting on the sofa drinking herbal tea, it's not my tipple of choice when on licensed premises with drunken friends.  That was no hardship really - have you been to Manchester in January?  It's dark, dreary and depressing.  The sofa and a slanket is really the best place for you.

Fast-forward three years and I remembered this yearly tradition.  December, whilst not spent in Manchester and instead in a Muslim country, was still pretty heavy-going.  I decided it would be good to give it a go, partly to allow my liver to regenerate and partly just to prove that I could do it.  I'm not going to lie, it hasn't been easy.  And the part which I've struggled with the most hasn't been outside the house, but in it.  Yes, I do regularly storm drunkenly round dancefloors here, but to be honest it's the simple chilled glass on the sofa or balcony at the end of another hellish day dealing with retards that I missed the most.

So how have I done?  Well, I started well.  Then there was THAT weekend in Egypt.  Climbed back on wagon.  Then there was the boy's family to entertain (lovely, but who does that sober - you get me?).  Climbed back on wagon. Then there was a significant date to celebrate.  Climbed back on wagon.  And now there's a weekend away ahead of me.  Followed by dinner at the world's tallest restaurant, and dinner at The Riv.  It's not easy having willpower!

Overall I've managed to refrain for exactly 50% of the month so far.  This is good going in Dubai, let me tell you.  It's the city where people (especially twenty something Brits) spend their Fridays drinking free-flowing wine, having sex on the beach, and projectile vomiting all over tables in very nice restaurants (true story and happened only yesterday. Hideous.)  I think I've proved a point, although which one I'm not exactly sure.  I'm going to continue trying to show restraint, as here are benefits: I sleep better, go down a notch on my belt, and generally have an aura of smugness which comes from feeling, well, grown-up.  It also makes sure I don't fall into the category of "drunken girl" which so many Dubai residents do.  God forbid.

I'll update you at the end of the month.  Tonight I shall be mostly drinking herbal tea...

Licence to....

Did I mention that I finally sorted my alcohol licence? It took me two years to get round to it, mainly because I couldn’t face the inevitable hassle of taking 25 passport photos, my inside leg measurement and first-born child to some out of the way location, standing in a queue for 5 hours, and then waiting six months for it to arrive. (I work in PR, remember..I’m prone to exaggeration.)


Joking apart, it’s such a ball-ache to get so many things done in Dubai, that this was one thing I couldn’t face. If you want to legitimately buy alcohol (from unmarked off-licences) then you need one of these cards. Bizarrely you can still pick up 5 bottles of wine at Duty Free without anyone asking you for anything at all, and as I travel somewhere pretty much every three weeks, that kept my cupboards full…..the contradictions of Dubai..

I’m not sure what prompted my conscience to actually sort this out. Perhaps it was the guilt of my over-flowing wine cupboard, perhaps it was that just once, I wanted to be a good girl and play by the rules.

If I’m honest, it was neither. It was the happy day that I realized that the head office of one of the main alcohol retailers is…IN MY OFFICE BUILDING. No queues, no hassle, just a quick ride in the lift, 5 pieces of paper, and ONE passport photo. 6 days later: licence was ready.

Much excitement on collection. Yes of course it’s a novelty coming from a country where you can drink, pretty much anywhere, at any time day or night with no restrictions. But the main thing was being reminded that small pieces of plastic and paper are vey important here. You don’t need them every day, but you definitely wouldn’t leave the house without your driving licence, passport (and visa) copy, health card and now, booze licence. I need a bigger purse…

Beirut Bedlam

Yes, we survived Beirut. Or should that be: Beirut survived us? It's safe to say that we fully embraced everything the city has to offer. We gave and gave until it hurt. Where to start?

Firstly, the serious stuff. Beirut is GORGEOUS. It looks like Cannes when you come into land, rolling green hills with hotels and apartments built into them. And the European feel continues when you head into the city. It's just like Paris. And everyone speaks French, which adds to the effect. Yes, I spent the whole weekend speaking French - amazing how it comes flooding back to you after a few (ahem) g and t's.

Our hotel was in a seriously cute residential/shopping area (near the ABC mall, fellow Beirut travellers) which meant that literally ten steps from the door were all sorts of gorgeous restaurants, bars, shoe shops. Bliss. And the actual mall was a far cry from the sterile and anodyne malls in Dubai, this was partially open air, with lots of foliage and breezes. Oh and because Lebanon isn't a Muslim country, you can have a glass of wine (ok, a bottle) with your lunch, without having to be in a hotel. So lots of relaxed cafe culture vibes in full effect. Yes, people of England, this might sound tame to you, but after a year and a half in Dubai, this is great news!

Sightseeing: there's a lot to see in Beirut and the surrounding areas. the actual city is so gorgeous. The downtown area has been restored after the war, and looks just like a Parisienne arondissement. There's even Roman ruins to take a look at. Spent many a hungover hour checking it all out, with frequent food/wine breaks, natch.

Thanks to our NBF Joe Le taxi (a taxi driver who was really called Joe: genius) we had our own personal driver for the trip, who scooted us round the whole city (nothing like spending hours in a car with a wicked hangover). He even took us out into the hills to Jeita where we spent a hilarious, if painful few hours exploring caves and countryside via cable car, boat and train (no really). It was a little like the Krypton Factor crossed with Survivor. Or maybe that was just the previous night's antics catching up with me.

So, that's the serious culture/sightseeing part wrapped up. What about the rest? They call Beirut the Ibiza of the Middle East....and if by that you mean you can have the most insane nights out ever, where anything goes, then yes, it deserves the title. I'll keep it short as quite frankly, there's so much to tell when you've been out til 6 am each night, and also, I suspect some of the stories are only truly hilarious if you were actually there.

Some highlights will follow soon....I'll preface them by saying, if you're blonde, female and western in Beirut, you're definitely a novelty. And you attract a LOT of attention. You can't walk 2 paces down the street without every car honking and trying to pull over and pick you up. Which really isn't as predatory as it sounds....

Unplanned Debauchery

This weekend was a series of unplanned events…all hilarious. I arrived back from Qatar late n Thursday night. After scuttling into Duty Free at the airport and stocking up on gin, then negotiating the enormous taxi queue, I finally fell through my lobby doors at about 10 pm. One of the joys of living in the same development as various groups of friends is that there’s always someone to have fun with – and I bumped into one group in the lobby. It didn’t take much to convince me to stop off for ‘just one quick glass of wine’. This obviously became two, three, maybe four. After being in Qatar for two days in a dry hotel, it slipped down a little too easily. The balcony we were on has the most spectacular views of the Burj and the fountains, lord knows how high they must be to be visible from such a distance. Much ‘ooohing and aahing’ in between the gossiping and laughing.

I woke up, fully clothed, lying horizontally across my bed at about 11 the next day. You can’t buy class!