Bussing it in Dubai

Peter and Sue live in an area of Dubai whose name can be translated as Mother of Diseases, or possibly Diseased Mothers.  This is an improvement on the area they lived in in Brunei, The Village of the Stream Smelling of Urine.

They have a roomy bungalow sharing a communal swimming pool where I had a pleasant and solitary swim in the morning.   

  

I then tried walking to get my bearings.  The streets, though, have inspired names like 29 or 6 or 7.  These are random rather than consecutive which doesn’t help.  Sue and Peter live at 5b but tell me that it’s no good saying that to taxi drivers as there are a lot of 5b’s around.  Wouldn’t you know. 

The Turkish restaurant where I lunched had very slow service giving me a lot of time to look around. The waitresses were dressed in red and gold outfits with little fez type hats.  The clientele was mixed, both men and women, some in traditional Arab clothes and other women in western office gear – white shirts and knee length black skirts.  There were smart looking tables both outside and in, but inside were two flat screen televisions showing Arsenal getting thrashed by Bayern Munich – 3-1 the last time I looked. 

Most of the diners, office women included, accepted brightly coloured hookah pipes after lunch and sat puffing away at their tables.  I didn't try one.

After lunch I took a bus ride.   Sue had given me a bus card and I thought I'd view Dubai from the bus window and get off if I liked the look of a place.  The front of the bus said “Ladies and Children only”.  I am a Lady, or can pass as one, but had no children with me.  Did “Ladies and Children” mean that Ladies and/or children could sit there or was this like Mother and Child parking in English supermarkets – you need to have the child with you to qualify?   I decided to sit down and risk being asked to move, but other solitary ladies kept boarding the bus and sitting in the Ladies and Children seats.

The word “Ladies” seems to be much in use in Dubai.   I saw lots of shops and beauty places and hairdressers and even a dedicated hair removal place which were all offered to “Ladies”.   There were also quite a lot of private clinics which offered “Speciality Services”.  Goodness knows what they are. 

I got off in an area with lots of high buildings near the Dubai Marina, walked round a corner  and found myself in a bustling stretch called Beach Walk.  It’s packed with restaurants and shops and one side has high staircases going up to shopping Malls.  Europeans and Arabs walking around or sitting eating and drinking.

There are some really stunning looking people in Dubai.   Beautiful women in expensive diamante trimmed burkhas – no face covering, very elegant face make up and stiletto clad feet.  Many men wear white headdresses, usually ringed by black or red and white bands and floor length white shirts –  starched and absolutely pristine.    I wouldn’t want to be responsible for laundering them.

I walked and stared and bought a shirt for myself from a market stall towards the end of the walk.  And was very proud that I got myself back to Sue and Peter’s by bus.  I didn't even mind when Sue said that I had got the bus in the wrong direction - apparently there's much more to see if you ride the other way.

Another swim after dinner, this time with Sue. The pool is heated and floating in the water gently chatting and looking at the moon and stars was glorious.