On the cosmopolitan streets they people walk in the heat of the cool season. They chatter and stroll, a river that flows between the silver-grey skyscrapers. From here you could imagine that this was all there was, yet from the hotel you see the soft gold of the desert sands, an older Dubai.
There is the Dubai of the elites, such sweetness and rich ease as a person can invent. The food is such that most will never experience. For those lucky enough to be citizens protected by their king there is a house upon marriage and more, and they do love their king, truly. Yet it is also the castle of old with servants whom are expected to stay invisible, to be appreciative for what they can glean in servitude occupations. It is much as every other modern city with its virtues and sins, worth of praise and in need of socially evolutionary reform.
Dubai airport was much as I'd imagined a military aircraft hanger to be, so open, tall roof and with the feeling of dryness heat brings.
The Burj Khalifa rose from the city, a marvel equivalent to any European cathedral. It wasn't simply its elegance that impressed Sarah, but the efficient use of the land.
Riding though Dubai the taxi driver began to talk to Simone. "You don't need to cover your hair, my dear. It's not that sort of place. Westerners are normal here." As things turned out her driver was from Pakistan, there in Dubai to earn money to send home, a difficult life was harder for her to imagine, yet he was so kind and nice.
The malls in Dubai were acres of consumer products, whatever you could want, if you had the money, it was here.
Carey sat in the Tim Hortons just down from her hotel; a Canadian in Dubai in her favourite coffee store. She was the epitome of adventure and non-adventure all at once.
The Dubai hotel was clean and spacious. It had the same efficient air as any five star in London.