Good Morning Dubai!

The view from our terrace at 7 am. Beautiful, non?

When I first arrived in Dubai I gleefully blogged about my daily routine. I was so giddy to be here, waking up to blue sky and sunshine every day. Many people told me that this novelty would wear off, that I would take it for granted. 

I'd just like to set this record straight: after six years in the UAE, this joy has not abated. If anything, I'm even more grateful and thankful for my life here than I was back then.

So how has my routine changed? 

Well, some things are different: In the morning there's a beautiful peachy-headed baby to snuggle before getting dressed. There's a garden and a terrace to sit on with the morning coffee. There's palm trees wafting and birds singing and butterflies fluttering by (a by-product of the garden). There's a smiley, friendly little Indian man at our front gate sweeping the street with a palm tree leaf (I just love this).

And some things are the same: the wall of warmth and sunshine that envelops me as I walk out onto the street. The taxi that I hail, the numerous 'Hello's' to the army of people cleaning, polishing and generally making sure that our lives run like clockwork. 

It's always a beautiful start to the day and I am eternally grateful to the Universe for these blessings. 

We have about 3 weeks before the mercury climbs to 40 degrees at 8 am - remind me of this positivity then, yes?!

Goodbye work, Hello....?

What time does the bar open?

I had a few days off last month.  Unusually, I didn't travel anywhere, I stayed in good old Dubai.  No airport, no suitcase, no passport, just me and my favorite city.  Now, I've always been plagued by a work ethic, the sort that if chats about winning the lottery came up, I'd be 'one if those' who said: "Oh, but I'd still work. I'd have to. I'd go crazy if I didn't."

Last week I discovered something has changed.

I stayed at home and fell into an easy routine. Getting up around 9, coffee and breakfast on the balcony, reading newspapers, magazines, reclining on the purple velvet chaise  and devouring books, lazy lunch on the balcony....you get the picture.  I was under doctor's orders to rest, but managed to slowly spring-clean the entire apartment, emptying cupboards, sorting through my wardrobe, organizing drawers, the list went on.  As I'm the sort of person who loves to tidy in the same way that fat girls love brunch, this was absolute bliss for me.

And as the days flew by in a whirl of pleasure, a worrying feeling began to sneak up on me. As I sank onto the chaise for the umpteenth time, the back of my neck prickled with the slow realization that actually, I could quite easily never work again.

So, what to do? Well I've given it some thought and have come up with the following ideas:

Find a Sugar Daddy
Obvious flaw in plan: whilst I adore grey hair, I do have an upper age limit, however rich they are. Also, men of a certain age want women much, much younger than me. And less (ahem) strong willed.

Become a Yummy Mummy/Housewife
Obvious flaw in plan: having seen how hard my favorite Dubai blogger works, I'm not sure this would allow for enough chaise time. Also, UAE labour law only allows gives you one month maternity leave (always found this incongruous considering the Arab emphasis on family values).

Discover an as Yet Untapped Talent Within Me
Obvious flaw in plan: in my, shall we say, more 'oiled' moments, I like to think I can hold a tune, throw a few shapes, even bang out a tune (and it is only one tune) on the piano.  But let's face it, I'm no Gary Barlow.  And I'm not sure the world is really ready for a roller skating hula-hooper.

Win on the National Bonds
Obvious flaw in plan: as I do actually have some savings in the National Bonds, this is perhaps the horse to back.  My chances may be one in a trillion but hey, you've got to be in it to win it, no?

So there you have it. Whilst it's always wonderful to be surprised in life and learn something new about oneself, I'd rather it hadn't been this. Until I crack one of the ideas above, it's back to the daily 12 hour grind...wish me luck.

Take Me Away From All This....

Should I run away and join the circus?!

I just ate for the first time today. Time-check: approx 4 pm.  It's days like these when I long for an escape from being a wage slave.  Many years ago, when in the first throws of agency life, working 14 hour days, dry heaving in the car park as so stressed before work, and generally being run into the ground (hello House of Pain survivors!) I read this book.  It's extremely interesting; chronicling a variety of people who made a drastic career change, and what subsequently happened to them. The problem I had with the book was that there were no hard and fast answers.  I'm a solutions and actions kind of gal, so a summary of  "it works for some people, it doesn't for others" didn't really help my thought process.

As I ran downstairs to fetch an over-priced Costa sandwich (almost 5 quid, uk peeps, and it wasn't THAT good), I took advantage of the 4 minutes I had to myself without emails, calls and general pestering, and let my mind wander to alternative careers that I might enjoy.  The short-list:

• Zoo-keeper: Yes I KNOW I bang on about this all the time, but it really was THE most fabulous day ever.  Downside: These days to even be considered you have to have a medical degree.  I do not fancy studying biology for 3 years to spend the following 3 shoveling shit, however lovely the animals are.  Also: Not many zoos in this region.
• Hotel Receptionist: I spend much of my time on the phone, being nice to unpleasant people.  Surely not that much difference in the roles?  I also have great teeth for smiling at people all day long.  Downside: The uniforms.
• Train Conductor: Lots of forms, lots of people to co-ordinate.  Making sure trains run on time.  Sounds familiar....Downside: No trains in this region.
• Dog Groomer: This was oft discussed by me and the Sass PR babes: cute dogs, and being around animal type people all day who are usually bonkers ie great fun.  Downside: A glut of these in Dubai.  Potential biting issues.
• Squirrel Trainer: I was reminded of this when recently re-watching the Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate factory. have you ever seen anything more hilarious! Downside: No squirrels in this region.  Potential biting issues as above.
• PA: Extremely organised, making lots of bookings, dealing with difficult people and managing a diary like a menace.  hello,this is me every day!  Downside:  No desire to mother a grown man.
• Artist: Back in the day I was all over art, and was always painting or drawing.  When time became more critical I limited these creative expressions to customizing my various apartments with homemade artworks.  Since moving to the Twilight Zone it's been lacking in my life.  Downside: Do I have to wear tie dye clothing and survive on a diet of gruel and hummus?

So, those are the options.  Not sure whether to be inspired or defeated.  Maybe the women in this region have the right idea: hold out for a rich husband to take you away from your life of stress and chaos.  Or as they also do, get married at 22 and let your life become stressed and chaotic for a whole host of other reasons!  In the time it's taken me to write this another 45 emails have arrived.  Best dash....

Make. It. Stop.

I'm drowning...the best way I can describe it is 'the washing-machine feeling'. Pulled in too many directions, too much to do, not enough time, unreasonable deadlines, demands...flying to Qatar at 6 a.m to pitch...more pitches...the list goes on. My indefatigable good spirits will not be quashed..but this is just to say: don’t expect too much blogging this week.  If I get the chance I will share some of the weekends hilarious escapades and tales, I promise.


All I will say is: people of Manchester: 16 days until I’m home. 16 days…16 days….I may crawl off the plane on my hands and knees, but at least I’ll be home. Please be prepared to scoop me up off the (probably rain soaked) runway!

Just Another Day in the Twilight Zone....

I don’t mention work and its frustrations, partly because I like to keep professional, however hideous things get, and partly because I don’t want to revert to whingeing here. But I do have to share this snippet with you, mainly to give you an insight into how unprofessional and just plain annoying it can be doing business here in the Middle East. Here’s a run-down of my day yesterday:

• Get up at 530 am. Curse the early hour. Get ready for work.
• Catch taxi to airport. Check in. Get on plane. Fly to Oman. (Note: It takes about 4/5 hours to drive to Oman…an hour to fly. So it’s further than the Manchester-London trip which is such a ubiquitous part of life in the North. Just giving you some perspective on the distance, folks.)
• Get off plane in Oman. Queue for one hour to get entry visa, get through immigration etc.
• Find driver. Another 30 minute drive to office. Arrive with half an hour to spare before the meeting.
• Meeting time comes. No client. 5 minutes pass, 10 minutes pass, 15 minutes pass.
• I suggest calling the client to see where they are.
• At that exact moment, a colleague receives a Blackberry message. The client isn’t coming. They can’t make it.
• This is despite the fact that we confirmed the meeting THE NIGHT BEFORE, and they knew that two people were flying in from Dubai.
• Refusing to be deterred, we pile into three cars, and drive to the client’s office. Half an hour away.
• We wait in reception for another half an hour.
• Finally, we’re led through 45 degree heat to a portacabin.
• We have a ten minute meeting.
• We leave in the three cars we arrived in.
• We go back to the office. Have a quick meeting. It’s already time to go back to the airport and fly back to Dubai. I haven’t even had time to check my emails.
• Half an hour drive to airport.
• Attempt to log in to airport wireless t finally do some work. It’s torturously slow. After 20 minutes to read 5 emails, I give up.
• Get on plane. Fly back to Dubai.
• E-gate card stops working. Queue to get it sorted.
• Dive into duty free (highlight of day)
• Get taxi home.
• Arrive home 14 hours after I left.
• Collapse through door, head into shower.
• Work until 11 pm answering emails and sorting everything that I couldn’t do during the day.
• Collapse into bed.

There are so many, many comments I could make, but I really think that all of the above speaks for itself, non? There are days when I would gladly give it all up to work for the camel man on Jumeirah beach. And that was one of them. Onwards and upwards….

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….

Brain Drain

One of the things I've always loved about working agency-side is that you get to work across so many sectors, immersing yourself in lots of different topics..it suits the butterfly nature of my brain (typical Gemini...).

Working on stacks of new business at the moment - summertime is picthing season in the Middle East, as everyone tries to get their budgets and campiagns boxed off before they fly off for a month's break in the really hot summer months. Anyway, the good thing about these pitches (10 in one month..oof) is that you get to understand a topic or market which you never really knew about before....it hurts my brain, but in a good way...

Head for Heights...

Looked out the window of the office today, and saw these guys hard at work. Not a job I'd like, I have to say, seeing as I get vertigo when stood on the pavement. Mind you, they have it easier than the guys that are currently cleaning my apartment windows. At least these ones will only have to go up tot he 8th floor. My apartment tower has 37 floors. Eek!

Nice Work if You Can Get It...

There is a man in the office today. He comes every week. His job is to dust the plants. No, really. He has just spent the last hour wiping all of the leaves with a damp cloth. Only in Dubai....

Setting the Record Straight

Judging by the amount of texts and emails I’ve had in recent weeks, everyone in the UK has heard about a young lady called Michelle and an, ahem, indiscretion on a Dubai beach. As I’ve had virtually no free time since I’ve been here to keep up with news in the UK, this article came as a bit of a shock to me when I finally got on-line to see what’s been going on back home.

I have to say this Daily Mail article in particularly (why am I surprised) had me in total shock. I fit a lot of their generalizations – I’m early thirties, work in pr, new to Dubai. But I can honestly say that my life is nothing like the one that is described here – nor is that typical of anyone that I work with or have met so far in the six weeks since I arrived. I’ve been for a couple of these infamous brunches but they have been civilized affairs and more about catching up with people after a very long working week (I worked a 70 hour week last week) and relaxing. Not a binge/booze frenzy at all.

In the main I don’t go out much here nearly as much as I might like, or used to in Manchester – I’m working so much I have no time to and am too exhausted for most of the week.

And in terms of ex-pats not immersing themselves in the culture here, everyone I know has been to visit the Jumeirah mosque which explains more about Islam and it’s background and belief system. I love the melting pot of all cultures here – the advance of Ramadan in September is completely fascinating.

This very sensationalized view no doubt sells papers – much moreso than: ‘well there are some people who over-do it but they are a small minority’, but I still think this is very sad and sloppy journalism. Shame on you Daily Mail.

A Day in the Life of...

Well dear readers, you are probably wondering how I am getting on day to day in the crazy world of work. I thought I would try to summarise this in a tried and tested PR format: A Day in the Life of…Please note that some incidents have been amalgamated into one day for dramatic effect. I don’t want you getting bored!

7.30 – 8. am. Wake up, snuggly and warm underneath my duvet. Yes, DUVET. The air con is a little fierce at times so a duvet is completely necessary. To paint the picture more for you, I am also wearing winter pyjamas at this point too. Sometimes, not always, cashmere bed socks.

Open the curtains. As yet the excitement of looking out over Dubai hasn’t yet faded. As we’re on the 27th floor, it’s a pretty good view. It’s actually been really hazy since I arrived, but the last few days have been much clearer, today I could see the Burj Al Arab in the distance (see photo!), and also the ‘World Islands’. Amazing.

Get ready for work – won’t bore you with these details but it does involve getting dressed quite quickly. (Fierce air con). If you’re interested, the business dress code is much the same as the UK. I wear the same clothes as I did in Manchester. Smarter if anything. That said as I’m working in an ad agency the dress code can be very casual on the creative side. Someone has just walked past me in a one-shoulder lycra top, another with wrap-around aviators (inside).

As I get ready I keep one eye on the view from window to see if any taxis are approaching the apartment. When I see one in the distance, I scamper off downstairs. Being so high up means I have time to apply lipstick in the lift on the way down.

8.30 – 8.35 am. Exit building. Take deep intake of breath as hit by wall of heat and sunshine. Clamp sunglasses firmly onto face. Hail cab from outside building. Depending on the traffic this can take anything from 1-5 minutes. After 5 minutes you really feel the heat and I’m already starting to flag.

Enter cab. Explain to taxi driver where I need to go. 95% of the time they a) cannot understand me b) have no idea where I mean. Through the time honoured Brits Abroad tradition of waving hands, smiling and talking loudly, we manage to navigate.

8.40 am. Arrive at work. Yes it is really that close to the apartment. Run inside through the heat, saying hello to the army of Indian men who are outside the building. I’m not sure exactly what they all do. Some are valet parking, some directing the traffic, some seem to be there just to greet us. There is a plethora of people throughout the building, cleaning, tidying, delivering mail and making drinks – generally looking after us. We’re very lucky! I have yet to enter the toilet without finding someone cleaning, polishing, and folding the toilet roll into a point.

My office is very space age/James Bond. I’ve been in a lot of advertising and creative agencies over the years and this is definitely the coolest. To enter reception you have to walk through a steel tunnel! Lots of primary colors, pop art, a basketball court (no, really) a brainstorming area with grass (no, really) and of course, table football and a pool table.

Then follows the usual working day, taking briefs, coming up with strategy, ideas, writing, speaking to the media. I won’t bore you with it all!

11.30 am It normally takes me until mid-morning to become extremely cold. The air con is fierce here too (see a pattern emerging), so I spend much of the day sitting on my hands trying to warm them up. sometiems my nose runs!

1.00 pm Nip downstairs to café for lunch. The office complex is amazing, think Canary Warf meets Salford Quays. Lots of gardens, fountains, bridges and walkways, and places to eat and drink. At this point I normally go outside and stand in the searing heat for 5 minutes to try to warm up. My colleagues laugh at me!

Continue working. Marvel at the cacophony of different languages that I hear outside my office door. It’s a real cultural melting pot here, colleagues are from a diverse range of countries including: Egypt, Canada, India, Germany, Israel and Lebanon. Oh, and Bournemouth and Manchester too!

6.30 pm. Head outside, either try to hail a taxi, or cadge a lift home. Despite the heat at this point I can usually stand outside for half an hour at least with no problem at all. The air con gets into your bones!

Get home and discuss day with fellow flat mates. We’re sharing with a fab New Yorker and a Scot, I’d like to think the set up is more ‘This Life’ than Big Brother. Either eat out or have dinner on the balcony, with Sheikh Zayed road below. The traffic does not stop until at least 10 pm. How does anyone ever get home?

Fall into bed dreaming of sunshine and camels. No, I really did dream about camels one night!