Ok, so not a day later, here I am chnepring again. I arrived, at 5:00 AM. The flight outta Nairobi was pleasant. Emirates Air rock. After telling the customs guy, “I’m gonna do some shopping,” he let me through in the blink of an eye. I love my American passport.
I found a guy to drive me around for a few hours for $100 bucks. I may have got ripped, but I was alright with that. I had a personal guided tour of Dubai, rather stifling and idling on the floor of the airport. I’d’ve spent it on champagne in the duty free anyway.
I even got a frappucino. Somewhere, Frappy is digging a command line interface.
I realized this was my first time out of Africa since my arrival back in August. And I realized I was home.
Dubai is like Disneyland for business. I frickin love it already. Everything is new, and the place is nowhere near done. Cranes and development are everywhere one looks. I want to come back in four years when they have some of it completed. I mean, they are in the process of building not one island, but two in the shape of palm trees and an archipelago in the shape of a map of the world. The old real estate aphorism, ‘invest it dirt—it’s the only thing they’re not making any more of. . .’ does not apply in Dubai.
I also got to see the Burj Al Arab hotel . From the outside onl, but on my next stop I might just stop in for lunch, to say I did it. Our last stop was a mall. Yes, a mall. It was wondrous.
I might as well have been back in the states, except for the white women power walking— apparently the sidewalks are no good for a middle-aged work out —and the Arabic translations of Calvin Klein Underwear and such.
I am looking forward to my time in this mall when I return, not only for the opportunity to buy new shoes—that’s right Mom, new shoes—but also becasue of one distinct feature of this ‘largest mall in the world.’ (A claim about which I’m sure the Carousel Mall in Syracuse and the Mall of America outside Minneapolis would like to have a word. . .)
Although all ski rentals come with pants and a jacket, I think I’m just gonna ski in shorts and a T-shirt, to uphold American bad assness. Somebody’s gotta do it, right?
I finished my mini-tour in about 4 hours. I ended up at a ‘irish’ pub in the airport speaking to a lady from Philadelphia.
And thanks to the convenience of the Free WiFi at DXB, you, my dear friends get to hear about it all in near real time.
The world rejoices for sure (two people clap their hands and say, ‘yeah’).
My flight to Istanbul is in an hour and a half, and my Cutty Sark Bill is steadily approaching $200 UAE bucks.
Until next time.