All That Glitters IS Gold Part Three

Where did I leave off? Right… “LEFT at the feral cat.” I decided to spend my last day off in Dubai away from the temptation of jewels, gold and high fashion items and participate in a day safari. The Day Safari entailed a 4-wheel drive through the sand dunes of the Arab desert with a stop in a traditional Bedouin village for an evening meal, henna tattooing and belly dancing demonstration. The SUVs would pick us up and dropped us off right at the ship, so there was no arguing the convenience factor. I was in awe of the scenery as we followed the freeway out to a sea of sand. It may sound odd, but the landscape really reminded me of Alberta in the winter. I know, I know… how can the Arabian Desert under the unforgiving sun remind me of a snow covered prairie province? Well, the freeway for one was incredibly straight as it cut a path through the never-ending sand dunes. Something about the desolate quiet of the open plains was mirrored in the fenced off sections of sand dotted with the occasional camel or ATV. You could see almost to the horizon in any direction… and the desert reflected the suns rays much like a prairie field after a snowfall. Funny how you can find memories of home half way around the world. Our driver reminded me of my father, if only for his dark hair and presence. He too had that rare twinkle in his eye that instantly made me feel comfortable around him, and yet curious of what mischief he might chase. He didn’t speak barely a word during our drive out to the dunes, leaving us to wonder if he spoke any English at all. But once our 7-seater SUV started challenging those sand dunes, I quickly became aware of the universal language of “holy shits” and uncontrollable laughter. This man really was like my Dad. Tackling each dune with a little boy grin and a daredevil attitude. He continually hung back from the convoy of other vehicles so we could have the maximum room to careen about and send sand flying over the hood. The more we laughed and hollered, the more he swerved and laid on the gas. What a great experience! I don’t think the pictures can ever do the moment justice. There were 4 of us in the truck, so we were able to each take turns in the front seat, where the view was the best. I was the last to make my way up to the panoramic sights of the windshield. It was then that our driver and I started to talk. This man could speak very good English; I think he just appreciated having someone try to engage him in conversation. He told us all about the area we were in and all the growth Dubai had seen in the past year alone. He even spoiled us with a trip off the main roads to the Bedouin camp that involved a lot of fresh sand and blind embankments to climb over. We even managed to capture a few photos of the sun setting just before finding the cluster of tents in a small “sand valley.” The Bedouin camp was fantastic. I had the opportunity to dress up in a traditional burka complete with veil (this is the long black gowns you see the women wearing). I was surprised to learn that the women who wear the burkas only wear them while out in public and underneath they are wearing full outfits in the latest fashions. Even the veils are removed once a woman becomes comfortable with a new guest. And to answer Mary Ellen’s question, I did not have to be covered up at all while in any of the Middle Eastern countries. I tried to dress respectably – basically, if you wouldn’t wear it for a round of golf, it probably should stay in the closet. Dubai was incredibly modern, much like a European city, so there were no issues at all. In fact, I would say I received a lot of attention there, all positive, while out sightseeing and window-shopping. Anyway, the food was delicious. I tasted the best lamb chops that were prepared over an open flame and hand made pita bread that was a bit sweet to the palate. While we enjoyed our meal, all eaten with our fingers in true Bedouin style, we were dazzled by the belly dancer who spun her body around on several fine Persian carpets, with all of us diners circled around her. It was amazing how this woman could control every muscle in her core. She invited several of us up to dance alongside her – yet again, we were overtaken by fits of laughter as we tried vainly to mimic her motions. A few of us girls were inspired and purchased belly-dancing costumes with aspirations of taking lessons when we return to Victoria! A special addition to the night’s festivities was the rising of a full moon over the camp. Mystical is perhaps the only word I could use to describe it. Upon our return to the ship that night, I asked permission to hug our driver good-bye rather than shake his hand. He didn’t understand what I was asking at first so I just made the motions and was greeted with a huge smile and hug (that I secretly pretended was from my Dad) and a kiss on the cheek. Oh, and I managed to get a picture with him too at the camp next to a little Christmas tree – weird, I know. So, there you have it. A window into my memorable time in Dubai. I would return in a heartbeat. And not just because the monotony of the sail has been wearing on my lately. I have been busy with the daily chores of a sailor and stoker, and continually find my thoughts drifting to home and all the things I would like to do upon my return. But we’re not too far from that now, I suppose. Until I see that jetty filled with wives, husbands, family and media I plan to stay focused on enjoying each port as we inch closer to home… and I choose the word “inch” for a reason!