DUBAI – What the average tourist sees of it – is an ultra-modern lush green and soaring concrete oasis, surrounded by inviting warm seas in a hundred shades of blue and green and an arid, golden-brown desert, occasionally encroaching into the megalopolis.
Travel with Dusty Miller
When I first visited this most vibrant tract of the 24/7-throbbing oil-and-gas-rich United Arab Emirates, it was common to hear travellers comparing its city sky-line to that of Manhattan.
The way things are going – planning permission has been granted, some work begun, on a myriad new skyscrapers, including 100 additional hotels to supplement the existing 435—in a few years’ time visitors to New York will exclaiming the Manhattan shore-line reminds them of Dubai!
All the world’s major hotel chains operate there usually with several outlets each: such famous names as Hilton, Sheraton, Grosvenor House, Raffles (from Singapore), Ritz-Carlton, Radisson Blu, Novotel, Sofitel, JW Marriot, Kempinski, Savoy, Intercontinental, Ramadan, Taj, Crowne-Plaza, Regent Palace and Holiday Inn all have names and corporate logos twinkling in hypnotic neon-lights.
South African Sol Kerzner owns the 1 539-roomed Atlantis Hotel, which, elsewhere, I described as a monument to bad taste, giving new meaning to the word “naff”. I’ve mellowed since, but having his sycophants claiming it’s in the same league as the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben or the Statue of Liberty as a global landmark is still way over the top.
But then, the whole of Dubai, most of the UAE and much of the Persian Gulf is very OTT!
Super Sol’s little boarding house charges FROM US$735 a night; most Dubai hotels cost between US$150 and US$869 a night, but you’ll find locally owned serviced apartment blocks below the lower figure and I suspect you’ll pay much more than US$869 at the sort of luxurious larney gaffe that doesn’t advertise!
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I stayed at a near-airport hotel run by Le Meridien, an up-market global chain which has a tie-up with Starwood, who used to be tied-in to Harare’s Sheraton, pre- Rainbow Towers.
Flying with them from Harare to Adelaide, Australia, I was a guest of Emirates Airways so I’m not sure what the place cost. Perhaps significantly, I paid a surcharge of US$80 for early room occupancy.
(The plane landed at 6am) and had to leave a US$700 refundable deposit, presumably in case I wrecked the joint or went bananas on the suite’s not so mini-bar. It was fully refunded!
Anyone spending more than eight hours waiting for an Emirates connection in Dubai is entitled to free hotel room and transfers.
Emirates also kindly up-graded me from an economy class seat bought soon after the Adelaide destination was launched on November 1, to very – almost embarrassingly – comfortable Business Class, mostly under occupied on all four legs of the trek, with wonderfully restful fully reclining padded seats/beds, blue-chip label champagne, mouthwatering food off a gourmet menu and extensive wine list.
Meals are silver service; even in Emirates’ economy class (my usual method of flying), you get serrated-edged steak knives which, along with complimentary dental and shaving kits (including disposable razors) in the bogs – souvenir leather Bulgari wet-pack toilet kit in Business – make a mockery of Harare and Lusaka airport security scrutinising hand-luggage and triumphantly confiscating the odd one-inch blade penknife and diddy manicure sets.
There are no totally free lunches in journalism: even when you write about food, drink and travel and Emirates laid on a mind-whirling event-packed familiarisation tour of Dubai: a place with which I mistakenly thought I was already fairly familiar!
Magic super-silent straight-from-the-box air-conditioned leather-upholstered luxury saloons and 4WDs whisked me from a hotel verandah next to the superb buffet restaurant overlooking a couple of well-patronised sparkling swimming pools on a half-day tour of old and new Dubai conducted by a knowledgeable and personable Iranian gal. For my sins, I’ve misplaced her card.
If she reads this on- line . . . thanks for everything.
The itinerary allowed several hours for shopping trips to the various Aladdin’s Cave-like malls: I’m not the world’s greatest shopper and, candidly, an hour in Carrefour, the French-run hyper and supermarket chain, prominent in The Gulf, was more than enough to buy a few electronic items I needed mainly for work.
Rather than shopping in one mall I spent ages gawping at a stunning marine aquarium filled with all sorts of things which would go well with chips, mushy peas, salt and pepper…and sharks, rays and lots more. I also bought the world’s dearest cappuccino there, when I just had to halt and rest weary limbs. In dirhams, it cost almost US$7…in a polystyrene beaker!
Most of a fascinating morning was spent checking out Emirates’ catering division, where they produce meals for all flights, airport lounges and sporting and cultural events sponsored by the airline: such as the Dubai Sevens and Dubai World Cup (world’s richest horse race).
Conducted by Jane Zdrowjewski, an Irish-born lass with Polish father and West of Scotland brogue, I saw how they prepare more than 130 000 meals a day. (Can you believe it . . . including kosher food, if ordered . . . on an Arab-owned air service!)
Mervyn—a cricket-mad Muslim Sri Lankan who’s lived in Dubai over three decades – was tasked with driving me on the Arabian Adventures afternoon and evening desert safari. We saw spectacular displays of falconry, drove, heart-stopping fast – several guests were physically ill – over sheer, shifting sand dunes, ate a delicious Bedouin braai (with luscious New Zealand lamb cuts) drank great cold lager and watched sensual belly dancing under a near full moon.
Mervyn says he’ll take me bird-watching to mangrove swamps near his home the next time I’m in Dubai in the migratory season.
He was envious I’d be watching a top T20 cricket game at Adelaide Oval a few nights later as we said adieu.
dustym@zimind/co.zw
