Dubai - A Land Of Extravagance

Of all the things I've heard of Dubai, I had least expected a fantastic sprawling beach with waters so blue and waves so frothy.

I stayed in the Dubai Marine Beach Resort & Spa, which is set along this lovely beach. Unfortunately, this was a work trip so I did not bring along my bikini. Ack!

My hotel was more of a leisure hotel than a business one, so there were loads of happy families decked out in swimwear every morning, while I was miserable in my work clothes. The expanse of greenery that surrounded the hotel made me even more miserable about having to go to work.



Digressing here - this is the most conservative outfit I've ever, ever worn. Even Kat was amused, until she realised that my blouse appeared quite translucent under the sun. Heh. There must be some balance, see? I cannot be completely decent.

My hotel is home to two of Dubai's most happening clubs - Serai and Malecon. Sad to say, I've been to neither of them during my four-day stay.

Oh! You know how women in the Middle East would shroud themselves because of their religion? In the day, I saw women so completely covered, I felt embarrassingly naked in my pants and button shirts. Then at night I see women who thronged the clubs in my hotel in provocative hot pants and slinky barebacks, I felt like a nun in my jeans and tank top. Sheesh!



Dubai resembles Singapore a lot. Too many tall buildings, too many cars, too many shopping centres, lots of greenery lining the roads and the streets are so darn clean. The street signs are mostly in English and on a few occasions when I dozed off in the taxi and woke up groggy, I forgot I was in Dubai!

The traffic in Dubai, though, was a lot worse than in Singapore. Cars must be too damn cheap in Dubai.

One evening, there was a dinner function at The Fairmont Dubai, located just across from the Dubai World Trade Centre where the exhibition was held. We could drag our bags and tired legs across the road. Or we could pile into a cab and spend one hour going down a few kilometers, make a U-turn and back up another few kilometers, a mere distance that would normally take less than five minutes to cover. We chose the latter and spent the whole hour cursing the gods and the devils.

Bad traffic was one problem. The other problem is there were not enough taxis in Dubai! We waited for 40 minutes at the World Trade Centre and all the taxis that drove past were taken. When we eventually got into a taxi (and we had to share it with two delegates who happened to be heading the same way), we saw this amusing notice on the taxi's communicator:



Nightmarish traffic aside, I must say Dubai's lovely for shopping.

We went to the Mall of Emirates, the biggest shopping mall in Dubai - for now. So many buildings are being constructed in Dubai and the next completed mall may be even bigger and taller.

Another plus point about the mall is that smoking is allowed inside!



I spent three consecutive evenings at the mall, totaling almost ten hours, and only managed to clear the first floor! Well, not that I am complaining. Even if I had all the time in the world to comb the Mall of Emirates, I doubt my supply of money could last that long.

All the brands that Singapore has, the mall has it too. Mango, Zara, Pull & Bear, Mossimo Dutti, Forever 21, La Senza, Esprit, Swatch, Nine West, Mexx, Aldo and even Charles & Keith. But there are so many other brands that the mall has but Singapore sadly does not, such as Pepe Jean, H&M, Lucky Brand Jeans and a few other brands that offer really cool clothes.

Mango is about 20% to 30% cheaper in Dubai. The rest are about the same. Too bad I had to save for the Solemnisation dinner, otherwise I would have moved the stores back to Singapore.

Kat wondered why there were so many shops selling such beautiful clothes in Dubai when the women had to cover themselves up completely in black shrouds and veils.

Right after she voiced her curiosity, a woman sashayed past us and her black shroud fell over her legs as she walked, exposing a pair of beautiful green beaded pants. Heck. So they wear all the nice stuff under their shrouds?!

Whey managed to get confirmation on this observation from a local client the next day. The elites in Dubai are so freaking rich that they would just buy the nicest clothes and wear them under their shrouds.

And speaking of them being freaking rich, I saw a string of branded cars lining the entrance of the mall. I thought these Farraris, Porsches, Bentleys and Jaguars were part of some marketing ploy cos it was not uncommon to see a fancy car on display in public places to promote some sort of a nation-wide lucky draw. Furthermore, some tourists were posing next to the cars for photos.

Then I saw a man got into a red convertible with his shopping bags and drove off. :)

While the women shielded their faces from the world, the men did not. I marveled at their chiseled jaws and cheekbones, and very penetrating dark eyes. There's just something really evil about their penetrating looks. And only god knows how much I adore dark, thinking eyes.

I encountered an Egyptian taxi driver who was very good looking with cheekbones so sharp you could land on his face and die. His white linen shirt stretched taut across his body and you could tell he was well-built. God, I felt like pulling his head into my bosom and lick his face. Irene teased him and asked if he was married or has a girlfriend. He replied in a stern manner, "Muslims cannot have girlfriends. We have arranged marriages."

Hokay. Cannot joke with this one.

The other thing I love about Dubai is its endless supply of restaurants. Surely there are less wealthy civilians who cannot afford such dining pleasures! Where do they eat then?

According to my colleagues who have been to Dubai many times before, Chinese and Thai food taste totally fake in Dubai and are not worthy having. So we stuck to Lebanese and Moroccan. I used to think that Middle East cuisine was yucky. After my trip to Dubai, I've changed my tune. The hawkers at Singapore's Arab Street are to be blamed.

Karam Beirut is a very pretty restaurant in the Mall of Emirates. It overlooks the famous Ski Dubai, an indoor snow ski facility.



It seems that the Middle Easterns love bread and they all start off their meal with fresh veg and almonds.



They would dip their bread into a variety of tasty purees, the most common being the hummus, a chickpea puree with oil and lemon juice. For me, the eggplant dip is divine. I ended up eating too much bread before the main courses came.



We ordered half a grilled spring chicken and char-grilled lamb cutlets. Hell, both were super good! The chicken retained all its juicy goodness and the lamb was tender and a little musky. I love the musky taste of lamb, although some may find the scent a turn-off.

The next evening, we had dinner at Madinat Jumeirah's Shoo Fee Ma Fee, a beautiful Moroccan restaurant, to celebrate Marisa's birthday. As it was almost fully booked by the time we called to make reservations, we had to settle for outdoor seating.

And, gawd, that evening was a torrid 40 degrees Celcius. The air was also impossibly still. I would bloody strip and eat in the nude if that was allowed.



We ordered chicken and chickpea soup, pumpkin soup and a sweet chicken floss pastry with white sugar icing on top for appetisers. The sweet chicken pastry did not work for me.

We also ordered grilled lamb shoulders, grilled lamb shanks, grilled chicken and a steamed red snapper. Everything, except the snapper, was divine.



While the food was great, I doubt I would survive more than a week in Dubai because I need my daily dose of scalding 汤 (soup)! I'm so Cantonese that way.

Furthermore, dining in Dubai can be quite expensive. The average bill for each of us was about S$70 for a dip, some meats and sparkling water. Throw in a bottle of wine and it can be rather pricey.

Apart from shopping, eating and melting under the unforgiving sun every evening for taxis, I also found time to go see the famous Burj Al Arab... from afar, that is. My colleagues told me that one has to be a staying guest to enter or pay US$100 to go in for a lookie.



That exclusive, eh? I also heard from an industry friend from Brunei that his sultan retains a year-long booking of an entire floor of rooms in the hotel for his family's use.

The same night that we went to ogle at the Burj, we also went to the Jumeirah Beach Hotel for dinner at Al Khayal, a Lebanese restaurant that offered live entertainment in the form of energetic Arabian songs and even more energetic belly dancing. The diners were all dressed to their nines, with the women decked out in jewellery and sequined dresses like they were walking Christmas trees.

After dinner, Whey and Victoria decided to go around and explore the other Jumeirah hotels. And I, the flicker-addict, tagged along happily.



Later, we settled at a bar in Al Qasr for a cocktail, where we had a spectacular view of the Burj and Al Qasr's man-made river.

Sadly, Al Qasr let us down by making us wait 45 minutes for our cocktails. They probably had to marinate our drinks, then steam them before serving us. It was a ridiculous wait. And we cleaned out our drinks in under two minutes. We could not order another because by then, it was 2am and the bar had closed. Damn you people, damn you.

I'm not surprised that by now you would probably think that my business trip to Dubai was just an excuse to have fun. So I shall now tell you about the exhibition I attended.

Unlike most tourism trade shows, the Arabian Travel Mart featured some of the most elaborate exhibition booths and exhibits. A walk through the hall with all the national tourism organisations left me in awe.



For example, the Dubai National Tourism office built this life-like old Arabian building as its booth. It came complete with real sand inside, a living area and women weaving.



Another exhibitor had this bunch of fierce looking, bearded men who could be Osama's pals for all I know, sitting inside a fenced-up sand pit drinking tea and munching snacks! They went on at this all day like they were oblivious to curious visitors.

I was totally amused, but was afraid to take a picture of them. They just do not smile and with that rifle in the background, I could risk being shot if I took a picture. Yet I could not let this great photo op slip away, so I mustered my sweetest smile and asked that bearded guy seated nearest to the rifle for permission to take a snap.

He nodded (thank you god!), so I quickly took a shot and fled for my life.

I had some sort of an enlightenment while attending this trade event. You have no idea what sort of big plans the UAE have in store for their states. If you think the Burj is fantastic, you are so wrong.

The government reclaimed an island to resemble a date palm, another to resemble an even bigger date palm, and another that is a miniature world map so that each island takes the shape of a continent. This is what happens when you have too much money and don't know where to spend it.

Now, I must tell you about Shaik, Victoria's driver. The dark-skinned, petit man who was born in Calcutta is a real comedian. Having lived and worked in Dubai for almost 20 years, he gave us a crash course on living in Dubai. While his "facts" may not be entirely accurate, he sure made us laugh many times.

According to Shaik, men in Dubai are allowed four wives only if they can prove that they have enough money to feed all four equally. So we asked Shaik if the ruler of Dubai has also four wives. He said, "Legally, he has four wives. Illegally, nobody knows".

And when the Dubaian man dies, the law will distribute his wealth among his wife/wives. The man's will will not apply. How strange, I remarked. Wouldn't that motivate the wives to murder their husbands then? To that, Shaik exclaimed, "Baba! We have to give all our salaries to our wives anyway, so there is no need for them to murder for money. Anyway, these women go shopping for clothes, shoes and cars and they charge everything to their husbands. That is as good as killing us already!"

Shaik also spoke of the generosity of the government towards its people. It will give every new-born girl 1000 Dirhams (S$430) and boy 500 Dirhams every month until they hit either 18 or 21 years old. This is to encourage locals to reproduce. Sounds way better than what Singapore's government is offering! We asked why girls get more, and Shaik said, "Girls need cosmetics, clothes, shoes and bags! Boys are cheaper to keep!"

I say it is probably cos the girls are reproduction machines. But Shaik's explanation sounds better.

Generosity is also demonstrated by the wealthy sheikhs who would build a mini palace for their children (sometimes for the first-borns, sometimes for each child) and present the extravagant gift to the blasted kid when he/she hits 18 or 21. Shit. I want a sheikh father.

The Shaik told us that the palace of the ruler of Dubai or some big shot in Abu Dhabi is super big. It would take a person 45 minutes to walk or 10 minutes to drive from the front gate to the palace door. We asked him how many rooms that palace contains. Shaik exclaimed, "Baba! Who knows how many rooms they have in there? It's many many! I think even His Highness don't know!"

Victoria suggested that perhaps this palace would require ten dogs to patrol the ground. Shaik replied, "Baba! I think the dogs will get lost in there and miss their meals! Then the enemy can feed them at the gates and the dogs will happily let them in."

Then, Victoria told us about the police station she saw in Dubai. She said it resembled a hotel. Shaik said the jail cells are air-conditioned.

Again, being super inquisitive, we asked Shaik how many convicts are there in jail since it is so big. He howled, "Baba! Why are you asking me this? I've never been in jail and I don't want to know how many people are inside the jail! It's bad thing! I just want to work and look at the good things! Don't ask me how many people are in jail!"

Shaik reminds me of that hilarious Sikh dude in Mind Your Language, the British sitcom of yesteryears. Love him.

To conclude this post that took me five bloody hours to complete, I would say that Dubai is a fantastic place to visit with a cup tied to your jaw to catch your drool.