Seeing the World...

Striking a Palestinian Pose..

I’m back from the most amazing, inspiring and thought-provoking trip to Palestine.  I can’t believe how lucky I am to have experienced it.  This got me casting my mind back over all the amazing trips I’ve had in the last three and a half years.  Some come to Dubai for a job, a tax free salary, the sunshine (hello!) but for me one of the biggest reasons was: to see the world.  And I think it’s safe to say I’ve certainly seen a lot of it whilst I’ve been here.  Drum roll:

• Sri Lanka
• India (twice) Kochin, Kerala, Allepey
• Africa – Nairobi and Kenya
• Jordan – Amman (twice) and Petra
• Nepal
• Singapore
• Bali
• Syria – Damascus
• Lebanon – Beirut (twice)
• Qatar (too many times)
• Oman (many many times)
• Egypt - Cairo and Sharm El Sheikh
• Palestine
• Canada
• USA
• Amsterdam (twice)
• Paris
• Barcelona

Of course I’ve spent lots of time in the other Emirates too: Al Ain, Fujeirah, Ras Al Khaimah, Abu Dhabi (way too much time here).

Due to the UAE labour laws which state that you can’t take any holiday in your first year of a job (no, really) I’ve packed a lot of this into a relatively short amount of time.  We’re blessed with a number of long bank holidays here so much of the travel has been squeezed into these.  There are so many reasons why I love living in Dubai and this list is the result of one of them.  The next trip?   I’ll have to consult the world map in the lounge and come back to you!

They're Coming!

Are iced mince pies under those hats?!

It's that time of year again.  As the temperature finally starts to cool, and we romp into the final quarter of the year, every expat's thoughts turn to Christmas. More specifically: what are we doing?

This will be my fourth (fourth!) Dubai Christmas and as I may have mentioned before, I adore the festive period here. We really throw ourselves into it and I find it even more enjoyable than I used to back home. Something about the blue sky and sunshine behind the carol singers that just lifts my heart. And Christmas Day on the lawn at the Ritz is one of those joyful experiences that I'll take with me to the grave. Music, laughter, love and Turkey. Wonderful.

We had the usual debate this year. As predictable as the sequins and fake tan on Strictly (in itself worthy of another blog) we debate the cost (hideous) and the weather (will Gatwick close).  Joan Collins (my glamorous Gran) is also laboring under the misconception that if she didn't come, we'd all have a far better time. She seems to think we'd all be out cutting up a rug every night on Dubai's dance floors, bless her.  Whilst I have seen my dad’s toes tapping at 360 on Christmas Eve, we've never come close to dancing. We’re all too busy stuffing iced mine pies and champers down our necks, truth be told.

So after all these discussions and reassurances, the tickets are booked. My lovely family will touch down in Dubai on the 20th, inshallah.  Let the planning commence!

Let Me Upgrade You...

Our suit was ALMOST this big!

There are few things more joyous in life than turning left on an airplane. Especially when the airline is Emirates. Even moreso when the left turn comes as a surprise upgrade. This hasn't happened to me for a while, but on a recent weekend away, we did have the joyous experience of being upgraded to the largest suite and the hotels best room.

Now, I'm a simple girl, who likes simple pleasures.  I don't NEED a giant lounge with more sofas than my apartment.  I don't NEED a roof terrace so large you could hold Kim Kardashian's wedding  reception on it. I don't NEED another two balconies.  I don't NEED a kitchen or two bathrooms (actually, I am a fan of his and hers bathrooms. How DO men make so much mess?)

BUT.....if you do, unexpectedly, find all these things at your disposal on an already beautiful weekend away, it would seem churlish not to don the giant fluffy robe, sink your feet into the comfy slippers, ring down for a bucket with ice and pop open some bubbles.....heaven.

I await my next stay in a 'normal' room with interest. And a little trepidation.

Spending a Penny....or a Dirham

Not QUITE this good, but...

Who hasn't had that awful feeling: you're pelting along a highway (motorway for my  UK chums) when you realize you need to answer a call of nature. Let's not talk about THAT time on the M62 (after 4 hours in one of the worst tailbacks in British living memory, a hedge at the side of the road looked like a good option) or THAT time on a Spanish motorway (as per previous story, only at least this time I had the girls with me and we suffered the hedge together).

As you scan the horizon for a gas station (petrol station, UK chums) you are already steeling yourself for the carnage that will await you inside. Let's just say that no one would choose one of these establishments for their final pee in life.

Well, you might if you were in the UAE! On a recent road trip we swung into a gas station and I grimly prepared myself for the trip to what was bound to be the bathroom of doom.  As I opened the door I did the usual holding of breath and prepared to force myself in.  But no! What awaited me was the shiniest, sparkliest, cleanest toilet in the whole of the kingdom. It almost out my home bathroom to shame and I have a weekly cleaner (thank you universe).

I've visited a few more gas station bathrooms since (all in the name of research. Yes I am a geek) and they've all been the same. Clean, shiny and stocked up with so much loo roll you could lag the loft with it.

I appreciate that public toilets are of little interest to anyone, with the exception perhaps of George Michael, but I just had to share this with you!

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.

Pounding the Pavements

I’ve always been relatively active. Back in the UK I walked everywhere and hit the gym regularly – well it was only 500 yards from my city centre pad.  Fast-forward to Dubai and 12 hour days do rather eat into one’s exercise plan.  But given that one is in a bikini for 50 weeks of the year, it’s a constant and very necessary battle to stay fit and trim.

The solution?  Let me introduce an old Manchester staple: Monday night running club!  Yes, way back when I was thin as a whippet and had more time on my hands, E and I used to meet up every Monday and run around Chorlton Water Park.  Happy days!  It worked for a number of reasons: Mondays are not a staple of the social calendar so you’re unlikely to be tempted by offers of new bar openings or events, it was a regular date and it allowed for gossip and catch ups during the exercise.  Anything which tricks my brain into thinking I am not exercising is most, most welcome.

As Sunday is the Dubai Monday, we’ve decided to introduce this here. Let’s be clear, I’ve only been out twice so far.  But this is how good habits start, no?  Let’s also be clear: as long as the humidity is hovering around the 80% plus mark and the nightly temperatures remain at 39 degrees plus, we’re never going to be winning any prizes for speed or distance.  Quite the opposite. 

We’ve got a regular rhythm going: Let’s run until the traffic lights.  Or the roundabout. Or the ice-cream shop.  Or until we want to pass out (with the current weather conditions, this doesn’t take long.) 

I’m not going to lie, I’m not a natural runner.  My heart doesn’t sing as I pound the (marble) pavements.  But what I do enjoy is running past the beautiful buildings, sparkly palm trees and of course, the world’s tallest building.  And despite the oppressive heat, I’d take that over the cold wet driving Manchester rain.  And we ARE approaching winter.   I’m determined to go at least once a week.  Watch this space.

Slaving Over a Hot Stove

Yes, I did wear a hat...

I adore Italian food.  This being Dubai, I don’t cook nearly as much as I used to back in the UK, where getting  home from work at a reasonable time meant your whole evening lay ahead of you, full of opportunity to slave over a hot stove.  So when I heard about a new cookery school opening up in Dubai, with Italian classes from no less than the Executive Chef at Carluccio’s, I was all over it like a rat up a palm tree. 

My first class was last weekend: Pasta and Risotto.  I’ve never been to a cooking school before so I had no clue what to expect.  This being Dubai, it was a swish affair, a fully-kitted out teaching kitchen in a very nice café.  Glass walls meant that those having lunch or coffee could see exactly what we were up to, which could have been off-putting, but we were soon having way too much fun to worry about bystanders.

The dishes we were tasked with? Orecchiette with broccoli and ham (in the most divine creamy sauce) and Risotto with Courgette (and another creamy sauce.  With Gorgonzola.  My waistline wept as I read the ingredients!)

Our chef, being Italian, was as passionate and excitable as you would imagine, but also patient and a wealth of knowledge.  Some of his comments were pure Italian quality: “Your pasta has too much personality!!! Your rice is too thirsty!!!” and we romped through the class in a happy mix of flavours, smells and amiable conversation.

We plated up our efforts and took home leftovers, which I happily scoffed for dinner last night. Delicious. Honestly!

Next week: main courses.  Chicken Saltimbocca and some sort of stuffed aubergine.  Cannot. Wait.

Metro Joy!

Adore!

There’s been much excitement in Dubai this month as the long awaited Metro Green Line opened.  Not only is this a huge achievement – the thing was barely out of the ground when I arrived three years ago – it also means that many of the older (and in my opinion most fabulous places in Dubai) are now easy to get to.  No traffic or parking woes.  I jumped the Metro home from the Marina at the weekend and was reminded just how fabulous it is. 

This being Dubai, it’s beautifully clean and efficient and when you add in the fact that it’s elevated from the road, this means you have a fabulous view of the city as you glide by.  There’s something very magical about a Dubai sunset, a rosy glow over the villas of Jumeirah and the Burj Al Arab swathed in gold.  I’m giddy as a goat to try out the line and go exploring….humidity, please end soon!

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?

Jaw Dropping Burj Khalifa

It's big and beautiful!

I may have mentioned a few times just how close I live to the Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building.  It’s the first thing I see when I pop out of my front door in the morning and I can see it from my office window.  It’s an omnipresent feature of my life.  And I may also mentioned how much I adore it: the design, the scale, and OH the twinkly sparkliness of it each night!

I try never to take it for granted and this morning I had a little reminder of why I never should.  The metro station is just next to the office, and as I made my way into work I passed the usual crowd of people making their way from the station to work.  And this morning, a little unusually, there were a few tourists (they’re not usually up and about so early.  Come 7 pm when I’m leaving work, they’re everywhere).  

I watched as one of them walked out, stopped and looked up.  And up.  And up.  And then erupted into a roar of laughter and a giant smile.  It has that effect on people, the Burj Khalifa.  It’s jaw-droppingly, mind-bogglingly huge.  Already looking forward to seeing its effect on the next set of visitors…