Ocean Dancer

The start of 2006 was a very busy time for us so the first thing we just had to do was go on holiday. We’d booked a weeks diving on a liveaboard in the Maldives, if you don’t know a liveaboard is it’s just that; you live aboard a boat for your holiday rather than one of the desert island resorts. I’ll not go into detail but it was the most amazing holiday I’ve ever had, and I managed to keep up my traditional of being in a different country for my birthday. To read more about our holiday go to http://oceandancertales.blogspot.com/

The boat we lived on, beauty isn't it?

Ma as-salaamah Dubai

I know this post will bugger up the order I’ve so diligently tried to keep, but it wont be very appropriate in a few weeks time, as I’ll not be able to update my blog for a while I’m posting it now……

After 2 years living here I say ciao to Dubai. I can’t honestly say I’m sad to leave as apart from the climate (well 8 months of the year anyway) there’s not much else I’ll miss. I’m sure that in a few months I’ll look back with fond memories but right now I can’t wait to leave the inequality and hypocrisy of the place. Thankfully our minds ability to suppress the not so good is quite remarkable. Three years after leaving India, and two years after leaving Malaysia I look back with such fond memories at the times I spent there. Even though I know there were things that drove me mad and I disliked, I have a very hard time remembering what they were. It seems my subconscious can only access the fun, happy and great times I spent, mostly I remember laughing, and the only bad bits I recall are attached to funny events or stories that I smile or laugh at now. Inshaallah, I’ll feel the same about Dubai in the future.

There is however one thing I will miss more than anything else and am very sad to be leaving behind, and that’s my friends here. I have met some truly wonderful people in the last two years, and though we’ve said we’ll keep in touch I said the same to the friends I made in India and Malaysia. At first you call or email regularly but after a while it becomes less and less frequent. This makes me sound a tad shallow and a bad friend, but I did make many friends, I’m a very sociable person and it’s not easy to keep up with all of them especially when they’re dotted around the globe. The few really close friends I made I have kept in touch with and do still see, though not as often as I’d like. The same has happened here in Dubai I’ve made lots of great friends and just two really close friends who I will miss terribly, and that’s Jo and Pam.

I have been so very lucky to meet these two fantastic girls, they supported me when I first arrived and through the bad times, especially with my operation. They delighted in my happiness with his nibs and our wedding, though a bit miffed they weren’t there! They’ve been surrogate sisters and best mates when mine where back in Blighty, whenever I needed them they were there for me. Until I met these women I thought you could only have one or two ‘bests mates’, now I know that’s not the case. There are some people in life you meet that you should do everything in your power to keep there; Jo and Pam are such people. Though I’ll not see them often or speak as much as we do now, they will always be a part of my life as I will never let these friendships slide. All it really takes is a bit of effort.

So to all the friends and acquaintances I’ve made in Dubai, thanks for the stories and making my stay here fun and memorable. To Jo and Pam, thanks for being the truly great women you are, for your friendship, your company, your support and mostly for the great times and laughs we’ve shared. I will miss you more than you know and love you both! XXX

A quickish guide to Dubai

As we will be very shortly leaving Dubai his nibs suggested that I write a quick guide to Dubai, that’s not so easy for me I don’t do quick stories! This is a list of the things you should do, watch out for or be aware of if you visit. First and foremost is construction, the travel agents rarely tell you that your holiday destination looks like London after the blitz, but there are more cranes in Dubai than in the whole of Europe. That should give you an idea of the amount of construction going on here, roads, railways, airports, shopping malls, offices and apartments are all being simultaneously built in almost every part of the city. This shouldn’t spoil your trip, but depending on where you stay it may disturb your sleep as they work 24 hours a day. It also means that the city is bathed in dust, so don’t expect vivid blue skies, it always looks hazy and if you suffer with allergies, can make for a teary eyed stay. The only other real effect construction has is on the roads; the sheer volume of slow moving construction traffic can clog the cities streets. This leads nicely into my next point the traffic.

Traffic here is shocking, getting from one side of the city to another can take an age, especially in Deira and Bur Dubai. Again this should not deter you unless you have absolutely no patience. Just be wary of the blurb that says your hotel is 10 minutes from this or that; it may well be an honest time when the roads are clear and they are clear from about 2am to 6 am! My advice would be to ask the hotel staff how long it should take to get to wherever at a particular time as it’s often the time you travel that makes the difference, e.g. it takes around 25 minutes to get from the Jumeirah beach hotel to the Dubai Museum in Bur Dubai at 9.30 am, but the same journey at 5pm would take more than an hour.

The Dubai Museum is a must, small on the outside but tardis like, its surprisingly large inside as most of it is underground, it is a fascinating look at this part of the world. Get off the beach and out of the malls for a day and discover a bit about the history of the place you’re visiting. Whilst you’re in the vicinity walk down through the textile souk to the Creek. Explore the Bur Dubai side, and then take an Abra (water taxi) across to the Deira side. There walk along the creek side as dozens of Dhows unload their wares. If it’s not yet moved to the newly built out of town mall, check out the gold souk and barter for a diamond. It’s a nice day out that will give you a small flavour of real Dubai rather than the sterile hotels and fake shopping malls.

For a bit of wet fun there’s always Wild Wadi water park, though a much larger and better water park can be found about an hours drive away at Dreamland Aquapark in Umm Al Qaiwain. It’s cheaper has more food options and less queues! For dryer fun take one of the desert safaris, the best option is the evening safari with dune bashing and dinner. Though make sure you book with a reputable company as you will be engaging in some dangerous driving, well you won’t actually drive, but you need to make sure your driver knows what he’s doing. After the rollercoaster dune bashing which is so much fun you’ll head to a Bedouin style tent for dinner and belly dancing. It’s a really great evening out.

If you’re here for a longer stay then head out to the Sharjah Natural History Museum and Desert Park. Just over an hour away it provides you with a chance to learn about the flora, fauna and wildlife of the Arabian Desert. It’s a zoo of kinds and though on the whole I dislike zoos this one has been very carefully planned and the animals appear well cared for. On the same topic avoid Dubai Zoo at all costs, it’s not for the fainthearted as the poor creatures there are not so well cared for. Abu Dhabi the capital of the UAE is well worth the couple of hours it takes to get there. The corniche is an 8 KM walk by the coast and in the cooler winter months an absolute joy.

Of course there are the shopping malls; one that gets little attention these days and has only been open one year is Ibn Battuta. It tends to be less busy than Wafi or Mall of the Emirates even though you’ll find many of the same shops, so it’s well worth a visit. They also have the fantastic Lime Tree café for coffee and the best carrot cake in the world, and Finz restaurant; the best food you’ll ever eat in a shopping mall. The only downside is they’re not licensed, shame really as nice bottle of South African wine would make the place perfect. A word of warning about shopping here, Dubai sells its self as a shopping Mecca, well for sheer volume it may be, but it’s not inexpensive. By that I mean if you’re expecting to come here for great bargains think again. Even during the shopping festivals the sale prices are rarely that cheap, especially when it comes to UK stores, I find that the sale price here is the same as full price back in Blighty. I know this because they have the price in pounds still on the labels. You can find some bargains on electronics but make sure you know exactly what you want to buy and have researched the prices at home or on the net. So many of my friends have found it more expensive here than back home.

Great bars that are worth a visit; Long bar at the Towers Rotana on SKR, Buddha Bar at the Grosvenor House, Vitage at Wafi Pyramids, Ginseng at the Planet Hollywood complex Wafi, the Irish Village at Dubai Tennis Sadium Al Garhoud and the Barasti bar at Le Merdien Mina Seyahi. Remember that weekends here are Thursday Friday or Friday Saturday so the busiest nights tend to be Wednesday and Thursday. For good food try Mezzanine at the Grosvenor house, Spectrum on One at the Fairmont, Medzo at Wafi Pymaids, The Dhow and Anchor at Jumeirah Beach Hotel and Seville’s at the Planet Hollywood complex Wafi. There are many great unlicensed places for food, try Shakespeare at Park and Shop on Al Wasl Road, Maria Bonita’s Taco shop Al Sheif Road, The Rupee Room and Chandelier at Dubai Marina. Like most places Dubai’s happening nightlife changes rapidly, so it’s worth picking up Time Out Dubai magazine when you arrive. It will give you the low-down on where to go for food and drink whatever takes your fancy.

What to pack? Well most places have a smart casual dress code; it’s easy for us locals to spot the tourists as they’re normally far more dressed up than we are. Jeans and nice top are the norm for a night out, even clubbing. So unless you wanna stick out like a sore thumb or have a posh do to go to don’t bring your party frocks! Please remember this is a Muslim country and although you do see very short, shorts, belt like skirts and tiny tops, it’s normally ‘working girls’ who are wearing them. So if you chose to dress that way expect an awful lot of stares. Much better, especially when in the malls or exploring the creek to wear a t-shirt and something a bit closer to the knee in length, it’s only respectful after all. The air conditioning in most places is sub-zero and in winter evenings can get a bit cool so you’ll need a cardigan, shawl or light jacket to keep out the chill. The most important thing… a high factor sun lotion. You will not believe the number of lobsters we see here, the temperature may seem pleasant at it’s very often hazy, but let me tell you the sun is much stronger than it is in the Mediterranean, you will burn without lots and lots of protection, so be warned….

And finally…. If you have the money I would highly recommend a couple of nights at Al Maha Desert Resort and Spa. It’s no good if you have the kids with you, but for a romantic, relaxing and completely indulgent treat its well worth it. Tag a couple of nights onto the end of your stay, and you will leave all the more relaxed and rejuvenated.

Expat parties, Abu Dhabi and other explorations

Keen to keep my dad happy, we drove the hour or so to Abu Dhabi. Abu Dhabi the largest and capitol of the Emirates, is a great city. No where near as brash or flash as its more famous neighbour it has a class sadly lacking in Dubai. We headed to the recently opened Emirates Palace Hotel for lunch. For someone who lives in Dubai home to more 5 star hotels than anywhere else I’m not easily impressed, but this was truly an imposing hotel. Not quite my cup of tea, it’s a bit impersonal and has much wasted space in my opinion, that said lunch was lovely. After eating we headed to a shopping mall because heaven knows there are not enough of them in Dubai!! After a quick look-see, we left and walked along the corniche. Now this is what is really missing in Dubai, a short distance from the city centre the wonderfully engineered Abu Dhabi Corniche runs for 8km along the island’s mangrove-fringed and white sandy shores. We strolled passed fountains, roller-bladers and families enjoying the winter sun, at the other end we stopped for a cold beer at the Sheraton hotel. The leisurely stroll had taken almost two hours and as we still had to drive back to Dubai we took a cab back to the car. This is another great thing about Abu - the cabs, there are hundreds of them and almost without exception the drivers are a friendly bunch. Ours was particularly friendly and proceeded to give my dad and his nibs advice on looking after their women, he was a riot and a really nice guy, of course he was tipped accordingly. We headed back home and later when I asked mum if dad had enjoyed his holiday (my dad is the most stoic man you could ever meet) he said his favourite day was in Abu and the walk along the Corniche.

Mum and Dad at Emirates Palace Hotel, and views of the Corniche





















Another great day out if you’re ever in Dubai is Hatta Pools. The pools are actually in Oman but you’d never know as there’s no border crossing, about 15 kilometres from the town of Hatta it’s a wadi though at one point the wadi becomes a gorge, with a 2-metre-high waterfall tumbling into a deep pool. A big draw for locals it’s a really beautiful place to visit, though in the winter months you must be careful were you picnic. We’d packed a cool box full of goodies and headed there for the day, the weather was perfect and we had great fun exploring. Dad of course tried to assist mother nature in her eroding of the mountains by throwing stones to cause landslides, fortunately he failed and we left the place pretty much as we found it.

Us exploring Hatta Pools......





















His nibs good mate Steve was having a party at home, the blokes were invited to play pool on his table and the ladies were to be pampered by a couple of manicurists. I desperately wanted to play pool, but had to (at least) start the night with the girls. As I’ve said my dad is stoic, it takes a bit of effort to get to know him, so I was a bit concerned that he’d feel out of place with a bunch of expat blokes knowing only his (soon to be) son-in-law, and he didn’t really know his nibs that well really. However it didn’t take much for dad to get to know his new buddies, just a six pack or two! As the pool upstairs became more boisterous, the manicuring downstairs became more boring for me anyway (I’m too much of a lad at times!) mum was however enjoying her first manicure so I headed upstairs paid my money and joined the pool game! Fortunately whilst not a very good pool player I can just about hold my own and in the killer version we were playing was not the first to be eliminated; man was I pleased! Eventually we had to leave and dad happily shook hands with all his new mates whilst planning the next boys night out, meanwhile mum and I flagged down a cab to take us home.

To reciprocate for Steve and his wife Theresa’s hospitality we’d invited them over for a traditional Sunday lunch. Now I’m sure many of you will disagree with me here but my mum does the best Sunday lunch on the planet, as you know I need to learn a few more kitchen skills so with mum supervising I cooked a roast beef dinner. With the exception of the Yorkshire puddings it was a resounding success and thoroughly enjoyed by all. After feeding we headed out to the patio to enjoy a balmy January evening in the Middle East. Steve and Theresa stayed till the wee small hours, only leaving when we’d run out of whisky and beer! Now that’s the sign of a great night! It was also unfortunately the end of my parents stay but on that high note they headed back to a dull and dark January in Blighty!

Another Christmas, welcome 2006 and entertaining dad

After Christmas with my sister and her kids my parents arrived in Dubai for two weeks. For a month beforehand mum was so excited about their trip our Jaki got a bit miffed; all mum talked about was her flight to Dubai on Boxing Day and how she couldn’t wait. Christmas is hard work for mum, all the build up, shopping, cleaning cooking etc. For years she’s been saying how she’d like to get away for Christmas but never has, and I don’t think she will as long as her dad’s still around, and may that be a long time! So the compromise was New Year with us in Dubai. We planned another Christmas lunch with them, though this one would be more Quebecois influenced. His nibs cooked tourtiere du lac st-jean, a meat pie to you and me; it could have fed half of Quebec it was so big! Though it was nice dad is even harder to feed than me and was less than impressed, respect to him though, he cleaned his plate. We opened yet more pressies; I think my family wanted to make up for me not being there by buying me lots of them. Not quite sure about the feather duster and rubber gloves they bought me though! We then spent a couple of days relaxing, before New Years Eve.


We’d decided on a quiet new years eve at home. Jo, her hubby Dave and their kids came around and camped in our garden, of course the kids thought this was great. Mum and I made a traditional Lancashire hot pot, a feature of most of my childhood new years, and we sat outside on the terrace watching the kids swim. By midnight the kids were fast asleep and the adults headed to the roof of our villa; there we’d have a great view of the Burj and its firework display. A cold bottle of bubbly was opened and as the fireworks lit the Arabian sky we sang ‘Auld Lang Syne’, gave each other a kisses and hugs, and toasted the end of 2005 and the start of 2006. The Burj at night...

I was a bit worried that 2 weeks here and with no Megan and Macaulay to keep him busy, my dad would get a bit bored, and so I booked a night in Musandam. It would kill two birds with one stone; I needed to do a visa run and it would be a change of scenery for dad. So on January 2nd we headed to Oman. You’ve heard about Khasab before so I’ll not repeat myself, this time however we took the more scenic coast road so we could stop for lunch at the Al Hamra Fort hotel in Ras Al Khaimah. RAK as it’s known is another of the Emirates, much less developed than Dubai it has a sleepy quality that’s a great counterbalance to the hectic Dubai. We stopped for lunch at the 5 star resort which was designed as an Arabian Fort and has a beautiful beach, though it was a bit breezy in January! After lunch we headed to the Golden Tulip where we were spending the night.

Al Hamra Fort Hotel RAK

Once at the hotel we headed to bar for a bite to eat, a few beers and a game of darts. Mum’s not a bad player she used to play for a local pub team, dad’s ok, much better than his nibs and I, so we played doubles; me and dad against his nibs and mum. I’ve no idea who won, just that it was fun any very competitive (I’ll bet his nibs could tell you who won, he’s sooooo competitive). The next morning his nibs went diving, I’d decided to spend the morning with the folks on a Dhow cruising the Fiords. We had a great time chasing dolphins who appeared very happy to ‘play’ with the dhows, then stopped for an hour to snorkel. Mum stayed dry and laughed at me putting my wetsuit on, but I new the water would be a bit chilly, as proved by dad only spending 15 minutes in there before getting out. We met up with his nibs back at the hotel and took the more direct route back to Dubai.

Mum and Dad on the Dhow

A White (hot) Christmas…

Christmas 2005 appeared and for the first time I would not be with my family on the actual day. I was a bit apprehensive about this, would I be miserable without them I wondered. The previous Christmas had been the best I’d had in a long time. It was the first time in probably 10 years that our Jaki and I had been at home for Christmas Eve; we shared the blow-up-bed and did more giggling than her 8 and 6 year old kids. It was me and Jaki who were up first and in a flashback to our childhood, ran into our parents room at around 6 am, jumping on the bed and asking if Father Christmas had been. Mum thought it hilarious dad was less impressed! So this year waking up in our villa with just me and his nibs in the house would be a bit strange for me. That said, we had made a big deal, our tree looked wonderful, though the Quebecois Christmas tunes his nibs played when we decorated it did not get me in the festive spirit, more folksongy than Slades’ ‘It’s Christmaaaaaaaas’.

We’d been invited to Jo’s for Christmas lunch; she had a houseful, more the kind of day I’m used to. Due to the numbers she had, everyone had been asked to bring something and we’d been tasked with the ham. His nibs took this on with his usual gusto, he was making coca-cola ham, cranberry sauce, traditional Quebecois ketchup and god knows what else. We spent a couple of days in the kitchen mostly me cleaning up and pealing, you know I’m not up to much else! Jars and jars of ketchup and cranberry sauce were produced, the ham was soaked in coke and crusted with breadcrumbs, my only contribution to the cooking, the rather large measure of Grand Marnier in the cranberry sauce; this may be my first Christmas in Arabia but it would definitely not be halal!

After a quiet morning relaxing and of course opening our pressies, we loaded the car and headed to the mad-house that was Jo’s. Lunch was amazing, even if Mags cheated by getting a local hotel to deliver the turkey stuffed, cooked and sliced! Several hours later after too much very good food and wine his nibs and I headed home, once there I enjoyed the usual Christmas day family movie; this year the Wizard of Oz and after skipping around the room singing ‘We’re off to see the wizard’ I collapsed into that other traditional Christmas pastime; a drunken stupor on the couch. Why was I worried? It was just like a very warm version of every Christmas I’d known!

Jo enjoying a glass of wine outside, the masses dig into their lovely dinner...

Corporate wife perks….

His nibs works for Volvo and each year in December they have an importer conference for the Middle East. In 2005 it was held in Dubai at Al Maha, you’ve heard all about the place in my ‘More Spoiling’ post so I won’t bore you with the details again. Fortunately wives were allowed for this conference, okay technically I was not a wife but near as damn it and there was no way I was not going! His nibs had to work though – shame….. me and the other wives however did not! So we enjoyed a walk about with one of the rangers to see the horses. We were planning on riding until we spoke to the ranger. You see all of the horses are retired Arabian race horses, endurance racing, and if you are not a very capable horse-woman you’ve no chance of controlling the beasts. As soon as they catch another horse in their sights they’re off and not a lot will stop them. The ranger told us an amusing but scary story of a Japanese tourist who’d come off his horse. This tourist was no more a rider than me, but he lied when asked about his experience and told them he was a jockey in Japan. Thinking they were giving him the ride of his life the rangers set him up with the fastest horse they had. The minute the poor man was on its back the horse took off into the desert. Over an hour later the tourist was found having been thrown from his ride, not seriously injured but very sunburnt and dehydrated after his time in the desert. The horse, well he took a few more hours to find.

A facial and massage seemed a much better option so I booked in at the spa. Whilst his nibs and colleagues slaved in the conference centre I lay back and drifted on a white fluffy cloud having my treatments. The food was amazing, the booze free-flowing and the rooms to die for. The best bit; all of this was free… See there are perks to being a corporate wife!

Bets, Carrot Cake and H

My mate Helen was in need of a holiday and decided the best time to come would be for the Dubai Sevens. If you’ve read the ‘Lost Weekend’ post you’ll have a good idea what it’s about. H loves her rugby, the sun and a tipple every now and then, so when better for a visit? She arrived on the first day of the sevens for 10 days and we set about catching up on our patio with a long cold G&T or several. His nibs was out for the evening with a friend of ours from Kuwait Wayne. He’s a salt of the earth South African with more stories than me, great company, very amusing and was in Dubai for the Sevens also. He and Helen got on like a house on fire so the scene was set for a great weekend.

The next day we met with Wayne and another of his friends at the Lime tree café. The Lime tree is yet another Dubai institution, not found by many tourists it’s a favourite of the locals here and makes the best carrot cake in the world ever! We ate a hearty lunch including carrot cake, ready for the afternoons boozing at the rugby. How Wayne was still functioning was amazing as he’d had only 3 hours sleep, they are a hardy bunch the Safricans! Once at the sevens we met up with more of them and sat to enjoy the sporting spectacle and the buckets of beer. There we met Ron, quite simply the most robust man I’ve ever met, with no sleep at all he was partying and singing with the rest of us. Ron lives in Qatar and manages a team of ‘seniors’, you know the older players. Much merriment was had and of course beer and as the evening drew a close we decided that food was required. Good wholesome stodge was the order of the day so we went to the Dhow and Anchor an English pub in the Jumeirah Beach Hotel.

We sat on the terrace and ate traditional English fare, fish and chips, cottage pie etc and a bottle of wine or two. Once we’d had our fill we left; Helens bag now bulging with the miniature Heinz tomato sauce and mayonnaise bottles that she’d fallen in love with! So glad the staff didn’t see this, the Dhow is mine and his nibs’ local.

Finals day the busiest and best day of the sevens arrived and with simmering heads we went back for yet more beer. We found our Safrican friends and managed to squeeze in with our buckets. Wayne and I had a little wager going, and as our teams progressed the wager increased, only stopping when his nibs put his foot down! There was a bit of money and a lot more pride at stake on whose team went furthest, but it just added to the excitement of the day. After several hours of drinking and singing, and watching a local radio presenter make a complete fool of himself as a cheerleader the final game was upon us. What a game it was too, very entertaining, end to end stuff with the holders England coming out on top again by beating Fiji (again) 28 – 26. Of course I was very happy at the result and being the good sport that I am didn’t rub the noses of my Safrican friends in it too much ;-) Wayne paid his bet and his nibs and I left exhausted but happy.

Helen on the other hand was having way too much fun to leave; she eventually got home as the sun was rising after going backstage to meet the Rugby Rock band then onto a party. We didn’t see much of her the next day and I’m not surprised we’d had one hell of a weekend.

We decided to end her holiday at the other extreme and went to the Burj for afternoon tea. We delicately ate our sandwiches and scones and sipped at our champagne and tea. A very refined way to end her trip I’m sure you’ll agree. You’d never have recognised us as the same girls singing ‘I love the way you move’ at the top of our lungs whilst gripping a couple of tinnies at the Sevens!

Vampire batfish…

As you know his nibs bought his dive kit a while back and after ill fitting wet suits and BCDs I decided to get mine. So after searching the net and trying on a few BCDs here I found my perfect kit. The boxes arrived and much fun was had (by his nibs) opening and fixing etc. The sensible thing to do would be to go diving locally to make sure everything worked so we booked a couple of dives with one of the local dive centres. The first dive was not much fun, buoyancy problems and a strong current meant I had to work hard and in my 5 mil wetsuit I got very hot and my mask steamed up. The second dive was much better, we dived a sunken cement barge just off Jumeirah beach. It sunk in a storm as the captain had greedily overloaded it. It was obvious that many divers had been here and fed the fish over the years as they were very very tame. It used to be the norm for divers to feed bananas to fish, under the water they disintegrate and fish love em. I had an escort all around the barge as my hair resembled the bananas so the fish were nose to nose with me most of the time, nipping at my hair. This is quite unnerving especially as some of the fish were not small, turning to look at something and coming eye to eye with a batfish is a bit too close for comfort. One batfish actually bit my finger, I’ve never known that to happen, unless you provoke them, this one just swam from beneath me and thought ah ha, hand means food so I’ll have a bit of that! It didn’t hurt but it did give me a shock. Feeding fish is NOT good for them and thankfully most places won’t allow it these days. The dive served its purpose, my kit worked and we looked forward to our next real dive; we’d booked a week in the Maldives on a liveaboard…..

The critter that bit me...

Happy Birthday Sis!

My mum was feeling a bit low, 2005 was not turning into a great year for my family back home; my uncles death and then my aunt’s cancer returned. A short break is a great tonic and my sisters upcoming 30th birthday gave mum a perfect excuse for one. She decided that our Jakis’ birthday present would be a flight to Dubai, so called to say that they’d had been looking at flights to come over for a few days. Of course I was delighted, I really love visitors and as I was no longer working I could look after them. So I searched the web for cheap flights. As usual, his nibs was the man of action and only an hour after me telling him of their plans he’d booked the flight! So on October 3rd I headed to the airport for yet another long wait to pick up Thelma and Louise as they’d named themselves (think of my new car).

We drove from the airport with the top down, and even though I was sticking to the speed limit mum was not impressed at how fast I was going. The fact that she was in the back getting the worst of the wind had nothing to do with it! I’d moved house since their last visit and the guestroom had been redecorated for their arrival. They were delighted with their digs, of course the large garden and pool helped. The next morning mum dragged Jaki out of bed before 9 am even though we’d not got to bed before 3am. As they were only here for 5 days there was not a minute to waste. They helped themselves to breakfast and 2 of the sunloungers by the pool; well my home is their home.

Jaki in the pool and mum on the patio, both making the most of the October sun...











As I said this trip was my sisters 30th birthday present, mum paid for her flight and my dad took a week of work to look after Megan and Macaulay. They were left in a damp Blighty with a list of jobs for dad to complete at Jakis’ house during his ‘holiday’. Do we have great parents or what? His nibs and I had decided to take mum and Jaki to dinner at the Burj Al Arab for her birthday gift. You won’t have seen a picture of Dubai without the Burj, the only 7 star hotel in the world; I’d never been even though I could see it from our living room window. You see unlike most hotels in Dubai you can’t just go in for a beer, you must have a reservation at one of the restaurants and they don’t come cheap! It was an excuse for us to dress up and have a night of real luxury. Mum and Jaki had been shopping a few weeks earlier for their outfits, I on the other hand was still to find one; so a ladies shopping expedition to the recently opened Mall of the Emirates was required.

On the day of Jakis birthday we lounged by the pool and then the preparations for our big night out began. Poor Alain, he arrived home from work to find the house blasting with ‘getting ready’ music and 3 women styling their hair and making up faces. Doing the only sensible thing he retreated to our bedroom for a snooze. Now I’m not one of those women who can’t leave the house without their face on and their nails done, nor thankfully is my mum and sister. We’re far more natural and casual people. However I must admit that with that extra bit of effort and our new glad rags on we scrubbed up really well. The pink Champagne was popped and we had a photo session to remind us that it is possible for us to look glamorous every once in a while.

A rose between two thorns!

We arrived at the Burj and after a look-see at the amazing reception headed to the glass lift that would take us up 200 metres to the Al Muntaha restaurant. Once at the top we walked through the tunnel to what can only be described as the worst interior designed restaurant I’ve ever been in. It looks like the dinning hall of a P&O ferry. Lots of mirrors and shiny chrome, a navy blue carpet with bright yellow, red and green splodges and the wave shaped ceiling with the same bright colours is enough to put you off your food. The hotel blarb describes it as having “a sophisticated yet relaxed atmosphere”, well the food and service maybe but the décor is definitely not, more loud and tacky! That said we did have a great evening; the food was excellent and the service second to none.

The garish interior of Al Muntaha

The highlight of the evening though was in the toilet… Here we are in a 7 star hotel, dressed in our Sunday best and our Jaki almost leaves the toilet with her dress tucked in her knickers. You can take the girl out of St Helens but you can’t take St Helens out of the girl!



For the last day of their stay we headed to the Jumeirah Beach Hotel. They have a lovely beach with great views of the Burj and pool where we sat and caught some rays whilst the hotel staff delivered cold towels and ice lollies to cool us down, simply perfect!

Rant alert… Boys and their toys

Can someone please, please, please tell me what the fascination of console games is? Why do they turn normally sane, affectionate, loving adult men into zombies? No scratch that I don’t care what the attraction grown men find in playing is, I just want them all banned!!! His nibs recently purchased an Xbox 360, against my wishes; he already has an Xbox and a PS2, and my laptop to play games on! But whilst I was absent, in Tuscany with Helen, he sneakily bought one. Since then every opportunity has been taken to play with it, to exception of everything else; he barely eats when playing, and conversation has dried up in our household; you can imagine what hell that is for chatterbox me. It appears almost painful for his nibs to drag his eyes from the screen to look at me when I ask him a question. You cannot imagine the hatred that fills me when I think about this stupid box, I’m not a violent person but I am overwhelmed with the need to smash this thing into a thousand pieces before hurling from our 31st floor balcony. I HATE IT, I DETEST IT I WANT IT OUT OF MY HOME!!!!! Our once bright living room is now in perpetual darkness as the curtains are drawn to prevent glare on the screen, I go to bed he’s playing, when I get up he’s playing. I’m not exaggerating when I say that the last few Fridays he’s spent at least 6 hours on the bloody thing. I’m really surprised ‘abandonment via Xbox’ is not a valid reason for divorce, maybe one day it will be…..

Lost with a new buddy

Just a week or so into my long holiday (remember I’d quit my job) Pam had some friends over from the UK. Being the generous soul I am ;-) I offered to show them around whilst Pam was at work. Of course it keeps me busy also. Carol and Lesley whom I’d never met fancied a trip to the East Coast at Fujairah. The beach there is lovely and they have a nice hotel where you can pay to use the facilities, pool etc. There is also a dive centre and Carol wanted to go diving, well how could I refuse?! So I picked the girls up at some ungodly hour and headed over the mountains. This was extra fun in my shinny new Tang, and fortunately the girls liked speed also.

Le Merdien Al Aqah Beach Resort Fujairah

Carol and I went diving and Lesley (a non-diver) found a nice spot by the pool with her book. This was the first time I’d dived without his nibs so was a bit nervous; though Carol and I got on really well you place a fair bit of trust in your dive buddy. My nerves were unfounded though, as we were new buddies we were both very careful of each others whereabouts in the water. This made for a great and very safe first dive. This extra caution came in very useful during the second dive as the visibility was shocking; we couldn’t even see the coral reef we were diving. It was so bad in fact that we lost the dive guide and the other two divers, fortunately we didn’t loose each other and after five minutes searching for the guide we surfaced. These are the times you realise how easy and quickly you can become disorientated in poor vis, the guide and the other two divers were so far from us at the surface it was scary. Big okay signs were given so we knew all was well and we swam for a relieved reunion. As the vis was so bad no one was keen to go down again, so we signalled the boat to come collect us. The day was fun and the first dive was great, the second one taught me another valuable lesson about the dangers of scuba diving.

Peas and queues….

September 2005 brought another concert to Dubai, this time it was the Black Eyed Peas. I was really keen to go as I loved their Elephunk album. His nibs quite fancied this one as did Pam, so the three of us went along to the Airport Expo centre on the 6th. The usual shenanigans went on outside, you can’t imagine how hard they make things in Dubai. You buy your ticket, you hand over your ticket, you enter the venue, sounds very simple no? Well not in Dubai! You buy your ticket, if you’re really clever you purchase somewhere where you can get the tickets on the spot, saves the always enormous queues at the venue to pick them up. As concerts in Dubai always seem to be last minute, the chances of calling or ordering your ticket online to be delivered are slim, and you risk loosing all with the local postal service! So with the tickets in our possession, we got there early to avoid the regular traffic queues, and decided to go in, er….sorry, firstly we needed to exchange our tickets for wristbands. So we headed for the queue at the wristband station, only there’s no real queue, why? Because it’s a square of barriers with 4 or 5 (if you’re lucky) staff taking tickets and putting on wristbands. Think of a four sided bar in a very busy pub, have you ever seen an orderly queue? No, well not here either. This is where things can get nasty, it’s he who shouts the loudest and pushes hardest that gets his band!

Pam hadn’t arrived yet and we had her ticket, so I thought great I’ll get her wristband also, save some time. Oh no, the wristband-putter-on-ers are not allowed to give you the band they have to put it on your wrist. “I’m perfectly capable of placing the band on my wrist thank you” I said “just give me my three bands in place of the three tickets I’ve purchased.” “Sorry ma’am can’t do that” they say. What I want to know is why not? What difference does it make? I’ll never figure it out! Well my insistence that the wristband-putter-on-ers touching me to put the band on was an infringement of my personal space convinced the poor girl to part with three bands in exchange for my tickets. Then onto the queue to get in…..

By the time you get into a venue you’re so stressed at the seemingly simple act of getting in, you need a drink! Oh joy… more queues at the bar, here again you have a convoluted system, you order from man #1 at the bar who turns around and orders from man #2 at the inner bar, man #2 delivers drinks to man #1 who gives them to you and then tells man #3 what you’ve had and you pay man #3. Did you get that? No neither did I!!

Anyway, eventually the Peas arrive on stage and in typical Peas fashion belt out their hits whilst dancing and strutting their stuff. Fergie has one powerful voice and manages to hold her notes even when bouncing like Tigger! The band were awesome, but let very badly down by the sound quality. The Expo centre is a cavernous hanger like space with concrete walls and floor, I’m no sound engineer but I’d guess that the sound checks done when the place was empty echoed, when full though the sound was absorbed by the people and it was crap! Shame really as the Peas really put on a show.

‘Tangs and do-do

After a great holiday in Canada and the UK I was ready to return home to Dubai, I had an added incentive as his nibs had bought a new car. Just so you know, I’m no petrol-head and cars to me are for getting from A to B and aesthetic pleasure. That said, when I left the bank I needed to give up my prized Jeep and I was gutted. His nibs said not to worry as he’s in the trade I could choose a car from the Ford family; Ford, Landrover, Jaguar and Volvo. Ohhhhh says I, I’ll have a Jag, the sporty convertible. Needless to say his nibs knocked that one back. What about a Mustang convertible he says, well I’d no idea what a Mustang looked like so he sent me an email with a photo and the techno-gobbeldy-gook. It was not what I’d call a good looking car and the one he’d ordered was red; except for that awful bright yellow or orange you sometimes see Ferraris sporting, there’s no worse colour than red, in my opinion anyway. Unfortunately this was Hobsons’ choice as red was the only colour they had in stock, the poor motor was not wanted as it’s a manual and they honestly can’t drive here so it was never gonna sell!



Anyway I’ve digressed, I had no idea what the technical stuff meant so forwarded the email to my mate Helen. She has great taste and is a petrol-head, so she could give me the girlie version. What she said was “it’s very fast, goes like shit of a shovel and was I sure it was being bought for me?” Honestly I think she was bang on; his nibs really wanted an American muscle car and I’d given him the excuse to get one. So I arrived back in Dubai to my new ‘Tang’, and quite frankly it’s the most fun I’ve ever had in a car (well when driving anyway – ahem!) Helen was right again, it does go like shit of a shovel. I love sitting at the lights waiting for them to turn green so I can put my foot down, can you believe I actually will the lights to turn red as I’m approaching? Don’t worry mum, as soon as I hit the speed limit I take my foot of the gas…..bummer!

A hen party of sorts…..

As I had no job to go back to there was no rush for me to return to Dubai, consequently I took the opportunity to spend a few more days in the UK. His nibs continued the journey home and my sis picked me up for a week of catch-up. As wedding plans were afoot this was probably the last time I’d be in Blighty before we tied the knot so a very early hen-party was in order. My sister having not played much part in my first hen-party was keen to make up for it and go a bit mad. Dressing up was the first idea I rejected and fortunately she took the hint and went for something more low key, a sash with bride to be and a balloon. We’d decided on Canal Street, the gay centre of Manchester just because it’s great fun, there’s rarely any hassle and they have some great eateries. Helen was up from London, Fintan (an honorary girl) was in town and together with my good mate Ang, her friend Andrea, my mum and her mate Sue we headed to Velvet for dinner and drinks. There we met up with our Jaki and her boss Gill to complete the party.

After a great meal and a few bottles of wine we left to wonder the street and people watch. There really are fewer places more interesting to watch than a gay village, the characters you come across are a scream, from Carmen Miranda look-a-likes, to Brazilian showgirls, to regular Joe Shmow, it’s a riot. We slowly headed to another bar, The New Union where our Jaki had promised to meet a friend of hers. Now I’m from working class roots and have been in my fair share of dingy bars, but this place took the biscuit. It was dirty, it was smelly and the clientele were positively scary. Call me an old prude if you must but I really don’t like couples, regardless of their sexual orientation, giving it the full tongue job in pubs. In here couples of all mixes were virtually having sex everywhere; I didn’t know where to look. Andrea was attracting a lot of attention, the wrong kind I might add, she’s a pretty blonde girl who is over 6 ft tall and the men who were interested were definitely NOT straight, they were simply too drunk or drugged to realise their error. We promptly downed our awful drinks and left, we couldn’t get our fast enough!

After that scare we went to a place I’d been to many times and knew would be fun and safe! Via Fossa is a labyrinth once inside, with lots of small cubby holes to sit and enjoy a quieter drink, and if the need takes you there’s always the basement for a boogie. Mum and Sue chose to stay in a quieter cubby hole whilst the rest of us headed down to the very dark and very hot dance floor. After an hour of shaking our stuff the minibus we’d hired to take us there and back was due, so we said our farewells to those who were staying or living in Manchester and headed back to St Helens.

Oh Canada – a fond farewell and Poutine

Well our time in Canada was over and after 10 days of non-stop visiting, meeting new people, sightseeing and exploring I was knackered and ready for a holiday! I had finally met His nibs’ mates and without exception found them to be a great, friendly and welcoming bunch. I’m not sure what they thought of me, Alain says they liked me, but it’s impossible for us to build up relationships when we’re so far away. I would really love to spend more time with them and Inshaallah that will happen in the future. There is one thing above all else I will miss about Quebec and that’s Poutine… You don’t know what it is? Then go google it!

Utter devastation....

I’m gutted, devastated and completely heart-broken. England are out again. I can’t say as I’m surprised, I have a tendency to err on the side of caution and expect the worse when it comes to my beloved England; prevents real disappointment. But to loose in the manner we did hurts beyond compare. I really hope every Portuguese player gets a really bad itchy case of the clap! They were THE most unsporting team I’ve seen play this world cup, and to think I went into this game thinking they’d been hard done to by the ref in the Holland game. How wrong was I??? The refs decision to send Rooney off was harsh to say the least and Ronaldos response despicable. To me it’s no different than a worker going to the boss telling tales and trying to get their colleagues sacked! When will FIFA do something about the conduct of players? Until players are held to count for EVERYTHING they do on the park this awful unsportsmanlike conduct will continue. I’ve watched it in several world cup games, not just those involving England and yes I’m biased when it comes to my team but even in those games I’ve been a neutral the acting of the players and bullying of the ref has been horrendous. That said the refs have been completely dreadful, and should without exception never allowed to control a major tournament again. His nibs doesn’t get my despair, how can he? But I’m honestly devastated; the only consolation is at least I can enjoy the rest of the football without the tension, headache and palpitations….

Oh Canada – the warring flags

We spent the day exploring Quebec City; very different from Montreal it’s equally as beautiful. As the capital of Quebec Province it houses its government and everywhere you will see the Fleurdelisé flag. The Government building however is surrounded by land owned by Parks Canada a Canadian government agency who deems it necessary to have as many Maple Leaf flags, the national flag as it can in the surrounding area. The Château Frontenac is over 100 years old and apparently the most photographed hotel in the world, you’d understand why if you saw it. Right beside it is the Dufferin Terrace where we had a nice walk whilst Louise entertained me with stories of the English outwitting the French and taking Quebec. It was a lovely day and as with Montreal I fell for Quebec, they really are two amazing beautiful, interesting and unique cities.