It is not that tough being a tourist. No sympathy, please. But to keep the Dubai tourist industry going three little Lawrences and I once again donned our tourist trainers, filled our borrowed Heineken lager cooler bag with water and ice packs and set off on the second and final day of our bigbustour of Dubai.
I am not sure who was keener to swim in the sea, me or the kids, but our first port of call tried to be the Jumeirah Beach Park for all stations to the sea. Unfortunately as our open top bus pulled up outside the park a sign displayed outside appeared to read "Ladies Only Today." The thought of allowing Trixie in by herself while we men sat around twiddling our thumbs for a bit did not appeal to me so we continued on our way to the nearby Public Beach instead. There appears to be a strange public and commercial approach to men and women in Dubai. Ladies clearly require time separated away from men, hence today's beach closure, and they clearly also require privacy when having their hair and nails done as all hair salons have covered windows. Additionally the unisex hair places appear to have separate entrances for men and women. However the public displaying of unsold ladies nether garments is allowed as demonstrated by the open door and window policy of La Senza in The Emirates Mall. Clearly the authorities have a problem with the showing off of hair adaptions, nail repairs and bodies on the beach but don't care about pants and bras. Curious indeed. But then there is the even more curious beast: the foreigner. That animal is allowed to use public beaches and sport whatever costume it likes as long as it follows a very long list of don'ts displayed on large signs.
While we were at the Jumeirah Public Beach, in the shadow of the Burj al Arab hotel, we did our best to splash in the sea modestly, dig in the sand modestly, smear copious amounts of sun cream on modestly and generally have a modest time on the very warm, almost hot sea. The waves were exhilarating and hot. Wishing to avoid sunburn in the up 45 degree heat we soon made a modest retreat to shade and our next stop on the tour. Not before a search for some loos though. No modest loos were to be found anywhere near the public beach, surely a public inconvenience? Instead I located a well placed seven foot tall date palm, next to a wall and immediately worried. Dubai is place with rules and fines and police and news stories about foreigners getting into trouble. I thought for a few moments and then decided to risk it. It was a great hide out and all went well, so well in fact all the gang used its cover, scuttling off one at a time so as not to arouse suspicion. What could be less suspicious than three children standing next to a date palm, and then and few moments later one father and two children standing next to a date palm trying their best not to look suspicious etc etc.
The Emirates Mall contains a ski slope. Bizarre. And bus shelters in Dubai are air conditioned. Bizarre, but nice.
Later this afternoon our hosts had arranged a Desert Safari which was splendid. For those not in the know it went something like this. A nice man called Akbar arrived at the house at about 4.30pm in a 2011 Toyota Landcruiser, with four spare seats for Lawrences and two German tourists in the boot. We then glided off in four-wheel drive luxury for a 30 minute drive before arriving at proper desert, you know the sort of thing, sharply rising peaks and deep hollows for seemingly miles around. We waited for a few moments while Akbar let out some of the pressure in the tyres, and then he, as the leader of 13 other landcruisers roared off into the sand with us and the Germans holding onto the various handles and seatbelts in the amazing vehicle. The children whooped and screamed with delight as we shot up steep slopes, teetered along ridges and then descended down banks at 45 degree angles. One of the vehicles in the party sprung a leak in a front wheel which necessitated a brief photo session on tyre repair stop and then it was off again for some more hair-raising, white knuckle stuff. It was marvellous.
Also part of the deal was an evening meal in the desert consisting of fine Arabian kebabs, curries, vegetables dishes, salads, breads and rice, washed down with cold drinks. At the dining place we were also entertained by a spinning dancer, and would have had some belly dancers too had it not been Ramadan, another curiosity. One man could dance, but belly dancers couldn't. However we were entertained by various hawkers including a photographer who had taken and printed off snaps of the children and I. He started by trying to sell the photos, quite good ones too, for 100 Dirhams per pair (about £18) which I obvious said no to.
A free offer that we did take up was a short ride on a camel train ... And I have never heard such a bizarre shrieking, screaming noise come from a creature before. It wasn't a noise made by one of the camels though. No. It was Trixie. She and Edwin went on the first camel in the train, Sheila, while Rupert and I followed on on Mavis. Trixie wasn't really prepared for the forward, back and up motion of Sheila getting up to her full height and expressed her surprise through the medium of shrieking. After a few steps she got the hang of hanging on, Trixie, not Sheila, and all was well. That is until it was time for the descent. The reverse procedure was far more lurching than the ascent and produced the same alarming reaction from Trixie. Fortunately when she, Trixie, was on terra firma again she managed a huge beam and all was well. Sheila looked on in a way that only camels can.
As we left the desert camp with full tummies the photo man tried again and after exchanging a few "My friends" with each other he happily passed on four photos to me in exchange for 20 Dirhams.
All in all another great day.