After a dubious 22 hours of travel, flying full speed southeast to escape the cloud of volcanic ash, I arrived safely in Dubai. A sleepy-eyed Matt was there to scoop me up and welcome me into a land of sparkling skyscrapers, fountains that dance to Arabic music, $30 martinis, designer man-made islands, and construction as far as the eye could see…. Or at least up to where the barren desert begins.
Since my body had no idea what time or day it was, I couldn’t agree more with the first activity planned - a “Sunday brunch” at the polo club. What a brilliant idea for a Friday afternoon!
Though a strong start, guess how many hours I lasted before Matt had to hook me up to an IV of coffee?
Don’t think for one second I was going to fly all the way to the Middle East and not try to bury a 4-wheeler in the sand! Despite explicit instructions from Matt on how to avoid this, I could not help but get myself stuck over and over and over again.
Next I will play the role of American tourist who begs shop keeper in Gold Souk to try on some of his golden spectacular, then makes him take her picture wearing it, while at the same time cheering for the hometown baseball team….. Go Phillies!
I loved the energy and organization of Dubai Creek, the life-line of the city. Would you believe that behind where I stood taking this picture there is a state-of-the-art receiving area that tracks and funnels these goods precisely where they need to go? You shouldn’t, I’m lying.