BACK TO THE FUTURE
ONE OF THE VICES of living in another country for 20 odd years is that you are unable to perceive it as anything but home. That country, for me, is the United Arab Emirates. So, whenever I am approached by friends planning a trip to Dubai, for itinerary advice, I am lost. Surely, I cannot recommend a walk by the creek or a picnic at Al Zabeel park—those are too pedestrian for a tourist. They wouldn’t want to scour a baqala (grocery store) for a pack of Spanish roll or stand by a fumy cafeteria where boisterous Lebanese men serve the best of shawarmas. Those are far from ‘touristy’. So, I send them packing with the most banal travel advice—malls, skyscrapers, and the beach.
An invite to explore the luxury offerings of Dubai seemed like the perfect opportunity to put an end to my conundrum. I was excited, to say the least, to delve into a side of the emirate that I by Dragone, an ascent to the top of Burj Khalifa was also on the cards.
