Getting there

4 September 2010 - We are finally on our way after months of planning, weeks of stressing and numerous packing conundrums.

It is wild and windy weather aka a terrifyingly bumpy flight to Melbourne. It is nice to catch up with Claire but there are still hours to wait at Tullamarine before being crammed into our back-of-plane seats on Emirates night-time flight EK507 for Dubai. I am seated between husband and a pleasant but very large Maori lady who oozes over into my allocated space. 13 hours is a long time to spend sandwiched like this, willing the plane to stay up, trying to watch a movie or two, contemplating the incredible durability of the lipstick on the Emirates hosties and snatching minutes of sleep only here and there.

At Dubai airport I am impressed with both the vast and amazing architecture and the handsome young Arab customs officials. We are met in the terminal by our smiling Radisson Blu representative who whizzes us in minutes to our hotel overlooking the 'creek' in the old part of Dubai.

It is only 6.30 am and I am not sure I can sleep but after a shower and a lie down on the king-sized bed in our glamorous room, we both fall into a deep slumber until mid-morning. We venture out to walk down the street and catch a wooden punt to visit the old fabric market on the other side of the river. All very fascinating but my major preoccupation is with the incredible heat – it is 44 degrees with no breeze. Ramadan means no drinking or eating in public so we feel very dehydrated. Forget sight-seeing – spending the rest of the day in the hotel seems like a good idea. We have lunch before a swim in the pool (disappointingly the water temperature is over 30 degrees) and slumber around in our hotel robes (so fetching with my leopard skin eye mask - thank you Anna) before high-tea on the 10th floor overlooking an astonishing scene of an ancient scene juxtaposed with a modern world The busy activity around the wooden junks and barges below us is like a scene from Ali Baba and the 40 thieves and yet over the other side of the creek there are many strangely-shaped sky-scrapers and the long thin spire of the world's tallest building.The Nepalese man who comes into our room to check the minibar supplies tells us he has been with the hotel for 20 years. He sees his family back home in Nepal for only one month each year. The Indian driver who takes us back to the airport the next morning has a very similar story – 20 years with the hotel and family back home.