Well, here I am in Sunny Dubai, almost feeling like I never left. Except, of course, that I did leave. A fact that I was reminded of when I took a slightly wrong turn tonight on the way home from Madinat Jumeirah and found myself on the way to Sharjah. As is standard practice in this city, they've changed the roads around again and the once familiar home town is turning into my own version of Planet of the Apes.
But it is good to be home - a pleasure to enjoy all my favourite things about the homefront without having to deal with the routine irritations that led to me wiping its dust from my shoes. Hurrah for shawarmas at Al Mallah after a night out; special queues for ladies at any government office; getting manicures and pedicures at NStyle just on a whim; the best fries in the world, served at Bar Zar; massages at SensAsia; random catch ups at one of the myriad coffee shops; the band at Jam Base; being able to drive to places rather than sweating over train schedules and tardiness; exchange rates of 7 to 1 working in my favour for a change. And of course, biggest hurrah for the family and friends that I miss, who make me feel so loved and popular that I forget it's still me we're talking about.
However, no points at all for having to work out of an office where smoking is allowed indoors for the benefit of so called creatives who apparently need nicotine to spur the sort of ideas that I wouldn't bother writing down for fear of offending the paper. Mistakenly allowed people to use the conference room I'm in for an impromptu meeting/brainstorm this afternoon. About 30 seconds in I was surrounded by a cloud of Marlboro Red's best work and having to stifle giggles over the apparent idea that dancing sausages could be used to promote mobile phones.
Oh and no nostalgia for heat, humidity, lecherous wrong number diallers who say they want to be your friend anyway, traffic jams and road rage either.
Moving on, a spot of unplanned Ceroc-ery with JP at Jam Base tonight reminded me of how long it's been since I did any sort of dancing and how truly ungainly I can be. Must remember to dance around my bedroom before I attempt a class on Saturday.
Aerosmith tomorrow night and several catching up extravaganzas scheduled over the next couple of days. At some point I must remember to pop along to the British embassy and sort out the visa that is actually the purpose of this visit.
Preparations for Cam's (and Tiina's) birthday jamboree continue and I'm resigning myself to not feeling particularly well rested until some time in July or thereabouts. Am also mildly concerned that truly drunken behaviour the other night following a painfully meagre amount of vodka might mean that Russia is not the most prudent destination for Lakshmi. Or perhaps it just means I need a bit of re-acclimatisation (is that a word?) after all the wagons I've been forcing myself on lately. Am sure it will all come flooding back once I get going. Hopefully only in the figurative rather than the literal sense.
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