From the 48th Floor

Dune Bashing in the Dubai Desert

Dune Bashing in the Dubai Desert

Aaahhhh, Retirement. My First day off after working fairly solidly for nearly three years at the Dubai International Financial Centre (DIFC). This year I cashed out nearly 25 days of annual leave so you can bet I was looking forward to a nice quiet sleep in. I’m not sure if its an omen of things to come or just a sign that Donna is keen to get this trip started, but she was kind enough to call me at the ridiculously early time of 5:30am. At least this meant I managed to get through my massive to do list. Most importantly booking next weeks flight to Cape Town (I’d hate to leave it till the last minute).

I’m guessing mum and dad will be wanting a little wrap up of my time in Dubai, unfortunately there is not a lot to say really. Those here that know me will know that I worked pretty hard, and tended to stick within my triangle. (UP Tower, Emirates Tower, The Gate Building). For a brief spell this triangle was extended to the other side of the road at Shanks Place, that was of course where Beer and Biryani nights started. Most importantly this triangle of influence meant in my three years I didn’t need to buy a car getting buy and the local taxi service and Dubai’s greatest asset – home delivery. And before you run off and call me lazy – I would like to highlight it was Donna that got the local supermarket to deliver a 2 dirham ice cream one night.

I’m planning on spending my last afternoon here with friends at dubai’s best Pub – the Irish Village. A little oasis where you can sit outside, drink a beer and chow down on a plate of bangers and mash – with real pork. No beef bacon in sight.

We’ve always said that living in dubai is/was a surreal experience. Its probably the only place in the world – at least the world that I’ve seen, where your average 17 year old owns a Lamborghini. Yet with all the cash and extravagance, without a doubt the best thing about dubai is the people. And I’m not talking about the locals, I’m talking about the melting pot of cultures that you are exposed to.

Yesterday, I was reminiscing with one of my drinking buddies about all the great friends I’ve made here. What was interesting to note is not only the diversity of people, but how everyone is seriously confused about their identities. Its no wonder countries in this area are constant blowing each other up.

I know a Jordanian who is really a Palestinian, A Syrian who is really American, A lebbo who thinks he’s French, an egyptian who’s really Scottish (aka the savage barbarian), a Palestinian who’s really a greek canadian if that even exists, an American who is now an Iranian, and an Indian who thinks he still a britisher (Not to mention about a million or some subcontinians who still think they can play that great game – cricket).

Finally I’d like to thank all my friends in Dubai for making my stay as good as it was, if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long here. I know that I came here for the money, but in a years time when we’ve burnt our cash on our next big adventure, we’ll still have our dubain mates.

Posted in From the 48th Floor
3 comments on “From the 48th Floor
  1. Andrew says:

    Not sure whether to laugh or cry – wonderful words, breathtaking pictures – just so happy for you guys and your experiences of a lifetime! Miss you both. Meet you somewhere along the way for a coffee and a beer or 2.

  2. Richard says:

    Looking pretty good in the kandoura there Matt!

  3. Bill says:

    Do I get that feeling that you are about to experience a bit of Dubai nostalgia?

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