dubai to sunny perth...

The spice souk

So Dubai is now a distant memory and I am back to backpacker life - this time on the west coast of Oz - in Perth.

But first a brief(ish) recap of my final days in Dubai if I can manage to write anything properly with a stinker of a hangover...



Creekside

I met up with a a chap called Andrew on Monday evening - he's a friend of a guy I worked with in Sydney, Noah, and he now lives in Dubai. I met him at a shopping mall and we drove out towards the Burj Al Arab hotel and to a bar called Batista (or something) at Dubai Marina.

Dubai stretches along the coastline for some miles and the marina is some way from the heart of the city. It's in the area where there are nice, plush hotels, malls and the complex world of the expats.

We sat and indulged in few G&T's and actually found out who the hell each other was before his lady, her mother and friend joined us. Like most of the expats I met, the seemed pretty disillusioned with life in Dubai - feeling the city to be a fake place built on lavish lifestyles, false friendships and greed.

The Emiratis, they said, did very little work because they get paid to live and accommodation free from the government and that most of the 50,000 population chose not to work.

Mostly, the people who wait on you, serve you in the malls and do the labouring are Indian, Pakistani, or African.

I then got a taxi back to my 2* hotel in Deira - a place the taxi driver labelled as full of prostitutes. Ah that would explain a lot.

On Tuesday, I decided to take a wander around and walked down to the creek. I took an abra (small boat) across the waters to Bur Dubai for 1 AED and wandered around in the hot sun. Andrew had told me about a nice cafe so I wandered around the textile souk (market) and then started looking for it and asked at a general store.

The chap in the shop actually rang directory inquiries, got the number, rang the cafe and asked directions before painstakingly making sure I knew the way. Like so many people I met in Dubai - he was immensely friendly.

It took me a while to locate XVA but it turned out to be in the historical building area - and very pretty it was too. The buildings look anciently arabic and have the wind towers perched atop walls to catch any breeze.

XVA was also an art gallery so I took some time to look at the modern art before settling down to a newspaper, mint lemonade and a wonderful lunch of some kind of rice, vegetable and yoghurt concoction.

Then the President of Uganda turned up. Which was odd. He took a look around while men in their white robes (the Emiratis) stood around wearing shades and talking urgently into mobile phones. And then, as suddenly as they arrived, they were gone...

That afternoon I embarked upon a desert safari - a kind of obligatory tourist occasion.

A 4x4 picked me up along with a Japanese chap from my hotel and a Malaysian lady and her sister and then we acquired a very nice French couple along the way.

We drove out of the city and to the edge of the desert, where we saw dozens of 4x4s ready to do the same adventure. And then we were all off, laughing smugly at those vehicles that hit the sand dunes and promptly got a puncture.

30 seconds later, we were not laughing so hard. We had a puncture too. Two minutes later, we were really not laughing. The engine would not turn over. The battery was dead. The air con was not working...

We tried to laugh. We asked what this might mean. Another vehicle? Death in the desert? A night under the stars?

We watched lucky bastards in their working 4x4s disappear bumping their way over the sand dunes and into the desert...

After about 10 minutes, another 4x4 appeared and they decided to attached a tow rope to the back of it and pull us down a steep dune to get the engine working. We scrambled out and watched...




...luckily it worked.

And so there followed about half an hour of bumping up and over the dunes, rushing sideways down the sand banks and headfirst down steep tracks. After the trauma of the breakdown, I was glad to see we were in convoy of 4 trucks - no way I want to break down in the middle of the desert - where mobile phones do not work.

And then it was to camp. Too soon sadly. We had to sit there for a good while contemplating sand boarding (I watched the French chap try it - it really wasn't worth the effort), taking full use of the free soft drinks, listening to loud loud loud music, fending off the attentions of the driver (me), sleeping (most people) and smoking shisa pipes.

I got a free henna tattoo and then paid to have it extended and everyone seems rather impressed by it.




Sometime later, a large barbecue was prepared with lovely humus, salad, chicken, lamb kebabs, lentil curry and all kinds of things.

And then it was time for the belly dancing - a trim, long-haired lovely came out and bent and shook her body in all kinds of weird and wonderful ways. It was fantastic and mesmirising and brilliant. Until the humilation of several as she got them to stand up and copy her moves. I was dragged up with my French friends...

Then later we all had to get up and dance in a circle before she whirled me into the centre and we spun around and around. And then it was back home and to bed and to fend off the attentions of a Nigerian guest in the hotel. There must be something in the water here...



Wednesday was my last day. I took myself off to the gold and spice souks in the morning - just a short walk from my hotel. Basically, they consist of a lot of shops selling gold. Or spices. I just wandered along the gold souk and in the spice souk - an older more interesting market - I smelled the wonderful spices and asked all about them. And ended up buying cashew nuts.

I was then accosted by an Emirati chap to go and look at the Dubai Muncipality Museum - a free video basically on the growth of Dubai and a look at some documents and the old Sheik's desk. Unfortunately, I then had to endure the attentions of this older man and his offers to show me the Emirates in his car... oh dear Lord. After explaining that I was leaving that day he eventually stopped trying to hug me and let me leave, but not before I had had a cup of Arabic tea. Hmmmm...

So then it was back to the hotel to check out before 12pm - and then just 14 hours til my flight. So I did what I do best. And went shopping. I decided to go back to Deira City Centre mall which I was told would be about a 25AED ride (three quid). So I decided to take the bus (1.5 AED).

The bus station wasn't far and after asking which buses I could take (6 or 27), I sat and patiently waited. And waited. The buses were not arriving for those routes. I waited some more at number 6 stop. Then I saw a 27 pull up and raced across the station. It parked. The driver got out and disappeared. I had been waiting 40 minutes by this time.

There then ensued a dance between the two bus stops for about another half an hour. Or maybe more who knows. I missed the 6 and ended up on the 27. But at least I was on the bus - and sat in the ladies section - which I highly approved of.

I then spent a very pleasurable however many hours shopping, watching a terrible French comedy at the cinema, drinking hot chocolate and then waiting for 40 minutes for a taxi back (which ended up costing me just 10 AED).

Then to the airport and to fly to Perth. I had a full three seats to myself on the plane. I arrived. I was met by Tanu, a lovely Perthian lady who was a coordinator for Travel to Teach in Thailand, who brought me to my hostel - Britannia in Northbridge.

I was reunited with Danielle and we all went for pasta and then a few drinks.

Since then, I have explored a little, bought a few essentials, slept a lot, eaten a lot and drunk a fair amount. We hit a club called Black Betty's on Friday night and then rolled in some leaves in the nearby park (I'm not joking) and last night, we had a few drinks in the hostel courtyard after a day shopping for clothes (for Danielle), listening to our iPods in the park and sitting by Swan River.

People are very friendly here - it's not Melbourne, or Sydney and the vibe is very different. Shops don't open on a Sunday. Weird. But it seems very nice and I'll daresay I'll have something proper to write about it very, very soon.

Below is Danielle and me doing our 'deer caught in headlights' pose. In the leaves. In the park.