Dubai Day Two
Today was a rather relaxed day. Thank God since Friday was spin city!
We woke up at ten (I was still feeling sick/sinusy/achy) had a quick breakfast then read in the room till 12:30.
Then it was time for our high tea at the Burj Al Arab! That's the seven star hotel situated on its own island. We taxied over, gave our name and reservation number to security (nobody is allowed in to just gawk at the splendor) and zizzed up to the main entrance.
It's hard not to be amazed at this place. The fountains, the colors, the 'world's largest atrium' but the interiors kind of remind me of something from Epcot in the 80's.
We snooped around the shops and found a dazzling diamond studded gun before sitting down for a seven course, two hour tea. HEAVEN!
I had an aromatic lotus blossom tea and immediately began sweating like a pig in heat. Fever breaking! I sweated it out for the rest of the day and am now sick free, that was some tea.
We dined on sammiches, mixed fruit, scones, salmon, pastries and champagne while listening to live Arabic music and later a piano while gazing out at the jewel colored sea. We could of stayed for hours.
Afterwards we took the glass elevator up to the top of the hotel to see the Sky Bar that overlooks the ocean. We attempt to walk in and a hostess kindly asks us if we have a reservation.
"No, we just want to have a drink."
"I'm sorry sir but the bar is closed for high tea."
After we thought our high tea was so chic we find out we could of booked in the Sky Bar with Lucite piano and spectacular views! Now we know for next time.
We then go from 7 star to no star as we head to the Karama shopping center in the poor area of Dubai (yes, there is one) where we were told to go to get leather sandals that a friend found there and my sister fell in love with. Hell on Earth! Buzzed with champagne we enter a cave like mall with dirty floors, broken lights and children running rampant with men shouting at us, "Marc Jacobs bags! Marc Jacobs Bags! Rolex!" talk about culture shock. We never found the sandals and run out as fast as possible.
We head back to the hotel and walk over to the mall. I had to do more damage at the Arabic tailors shop (gifts!) and wanted to see what the Harvey Nichols was like over here (small but cute!).
(The highlight for us at Emirates Mall!)
(Blinged out Bumper Pool Game!)
(Some of the younger Emirate men wear their head scarves with a certain pizazz!)
Then we came home, did a quick change and Ian picked us up at 7pm for dinner at his and Karen's house.
I met them in Botswana and Chloe and Peter's wedding and they have lived in Dubai for six years (from South Africa) where they run a film company. They live in a big old house not far from our hotel with a Jack Russell and a big white dog that is wild, temperamental and totally adorable.
(Loving this table cloth from Africa)
(They are just playing, I promise)
They invited a load of friends and family over and we drank, ate and laughed till 11pm. If only I could write the stories I heard about the middle east on this blog! But I think I may have a head hunter out for me if I did. There is nothing like spending time in a friends house in a far away place to really feel comfortable in a city. And it was quite odd to be sipping wine poolside with the call to prayer from the local mosque blaring all around us.
("And here is Fellatia")
(Ian's grandmothers leopard coat from the 1930's)
Karen showed me her chickens who lay eggs for their breakfast and Ian's Biltong maker which he brought from South Africa (Salman you would love that thing!).
Since drinking and driving results in a year in jail, Ian called us a cab then showed us a map of the Persian Gulf and was showing us the route our ship would be sailing. Mother asked in the most serious tone, "So tell me where Fellatia is..."
Pause
Pause
ROARING Laughter.
She meant Fujairah. Fellatio was the word of the evening.
Off to bed and tomorrow a day a Sharjah with their Sheikha.
We woke up at ten (I was still feeling sick/sinusy/achy) had a quick breakfast then read in the room till 12:30.
Then it was time for our high tea at the Burj Al Arab! That's the seven star hotel situated on its own island. We taxied over, gave our name and reservation number to security (nobody is allowed in to just gawk at the splendor) and zizzed up to the main entrance.
It's hard not to be amazed at this place. The fountains, the colors, the 'world's largest atrium' but the interiors kind of remind me of something from Epcot in the 80's.
We snooped around the shops and found a dazzling diamond studded gun before sitting down for a seven course, two hour tea. HEAVEN!
I had an aromatic lotus blossom tea and immediately began sweating like a pig in heat. Fever breaking! I sweated it out for the rest of the day and am now sick free, that was some tea.
We dined on sammiches, mixed fruit, scones, salmon, pastries and champagne while listening to live Arabic music and later a piano while gazing out at the jewel colored sea. We could of stayed for hours.
Afterwards we took the glass elevator up to the top of the hotel to see the Sky Bar that overlooks the ocean. We attempt to walk in and a hostess kindly asks us if we have a reservation.
"No, we just want to have a drink."
"I'm sorry sir but the bar is closed for high tea."
After we thought our high tea was so chic we find out we could of booked in the Sky Bar with Lucite piano and spectacular views! Now we know for next time.
We then go from 7 star to no star as we head to the Karama shopping center in the poor area of Dubai (yes, there is one) where we were told to go to get leather sandals that a friend found there and my sister fell in love with. Hell on Earth! Buzzed with champagne we enter a cave like mall with dirty floors, broken lights and children running rampant with men shouting at us, "Marc Jacobs bags! Marc Jacobs Bags! Rolex!" talk about culture shock. We never found the sandals and run out as fast as possible.
We head back to the hotel and walk over to the mall. I had to do more damage at the Arabic tailors shop (gifts!) and wanted to see what the Harvey Nichols was like over here (small but cute!).
Then we came home, did a quick change and Ian picked us up at 7pm for dinner at his and Karen's house.
I met them in Botswana and Chloe and Peter's wedding and they have lived in Dubai for six years (from South Africa) where they run a film company. They live in a big old house not far from our hotel with a Jack Russell and a big white dog that is wild, temperamental and totally adorable.
They invited a load of friends and family over and we drank, ate and laughed till 11pm. If only I could write the stories I heard about the middle east on this blog! But I think I may have a head hunter out for me if I did. There is nothing like spending time in a friends house in a far away place to really feel comfortable in a city. And it was quite odd to be sipping wine poolside with the call to prayer from the local mosque blaring all around us.
Karen showed me her chickens who lay eggs for their breakfast and Ian's Biltong maker which he brought from South Africa (Salman you would love that thing!).
Since drinking and driving results in a year in jail, Ian called us a cab then showed us a map of the Persian Gulf and was showing us the route our ship would be sailing. Mother asked in the most serious tone, "So tell me where Fellatia is..."
Pause
Pause
ROARING Laughter.
She meant Fujairah. Fellatio was the word of the evening.
Off to bed and tomorrow a day a Sharjah with their Sheikha.