"Feels Like" 59 Degrees!


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Middle East » United Arab Emirates » Dubai
July 14th 2016
Published: June 3rd 2017
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We decide to go exploring, and head off towards Dubai Marina which only looks to be a few hundred metres from the hotel. It's ridiculously hot and uncomfortable. My iPad tells me that it'll be 42 degrees here tomorrow with 91 per cent humidity, and that means it will "feel like" 59 degrees. 59 degrees! That really is ridiculous. Apart from us the streets are largely deserted, which we suspect means that we're the only people here stupid enough to be wandering around outside when the temperature feels like it's somewhere north of 50 degrees. We stagger into an air conditioned mall and perhaps unsurprisingly discover that this is where all the people are. We take a few minutes to cool down before heading outside again where it seems to be even hotter than before. We head back in the general direction of the hotel. We spy an oasis in the form of an air conditioned tram stop, and make a dash for its cool sanctuary. It's impeccably designed to keep the heat out, with two sets of double doors at each end. By the time we stagger back into the hotel our clothes are dripping wet.

I decide that I'll do just about anything to cool down, so I head down to the sea for a dip, thinking that it can't be nearly as hot thirty metres offshore as it was when I dangled my toes in the shallows last night. I couldn't be more wrong. It still feels like it must be close to 40 degrees when I'm in it up to my neck, and I stagger back to the beach feeling half boiled. Maybe the hotel pool will be better. It is, but not by much; it's still probably somewhere in the low 30s. I wonder what people here do to get cool and how they can stand to live in this climate. I opt for a cold shower, which does do the job, although it also leaves me wondering where they get their cold shower water from. Most of the water here is desalinated sea water, so they must run it through a giant fridge before they put it in the pipes. I make a note to never again take cold water for granted.

When we do see locals walking around outside, the men are all wearing full length white robes, and the women are covered from head to toe in black, and we wonder why they don't all end up collapsing on the pavement from heat stroke. Construction workers beaver away on building sites in full length overalls. It just can't be possible to do manual work in these conditions wearing those clothes, or any other clothes for that matter; there's got to be some mysterious secret they're not telling us.

We've booked a half day tour of Dubai city for the afternoon. Our guide's name is Dylan, and first stop is a view along the beach to the Burj Al Arab, which is apparently still the world's only 7-star hotel. Dylan tells us that it doesn't have any ordinary rooms, only suites, which start at $2,000 US dollars per night and run up to $15,000 US dollars per night for the presidential suite. The structure's shaped to look like a sail, and there's a helipad up near the top. We're told that a couple of famous tennis players once played a match on the helipad. I hope they brought a lot of spare balls. Michael Jackson was a one time guest, and signed the bottom of the piano in his suite. The signature wasn't discovered until after he died, and it's still there.

Dylan tells us that rulers of the United Arab Emirates have been hell bent on increasing tourism here since the 1990s, when they realised that they needed something other than oil to rely on for income. They also realised that if they were going to attract westerners they would need to relax some of their laws. As a result they now shoot drug smugglers in private rather than beheading them in public, and thieves that would previously have had their hands chopped off now get to rot in jail for decades instead. Western women also no longer need to wear burqas, and Dylan tells us that as a result you can now see half naked women wandering around in the shopping malls here. He doesn't sound overly disappointed about this. The target they've set for tourist numbers means that they need to double the number of accommodation beds here by 2021. No wonder every second new building looks like it's going to be a hotel.

We stop to take pictures of the outside of the Jumeirah Mosque. Apart from being very beautiful, it's apparently also famous for being the first mosque in Dubai which let women in to pray. The women were and still are however only allowed into a room separate from the blokes.

Next stop is the Dubai Museum, which is in and under a fort made up of parts of the original city walls. Most of this very impressive site is underground, and includes lots of displays and information on the history and culture of Dubai.

We pass the Royal Cemetery. It looks like it might be quite nice if we could see inside, but it's surrounded by high walls, and all we can see are the tops of some palm trees. Dylan tells us that only locals can be buried in Dubai. If you die here and you're not a local, they cremate you and send your ashes back to your home country.

The last part of the tour starts with a short ride in a rickety water taxi across Dubai Creek to old Dubai. We go into the spice souk and spend several minutes running the gauntlet of merchants trying to sell us every spice known to man. One merchant asks me where I'm from and when I say Australia he responds "gidday mate" in a very authentic sounding Aussie accent. I think they've got this sort of thing down to a fine art. Next stop is the gold souk. Dylan tells us that this is a paradise for the ladies, so he'll let us wander around in here on our own for a while. Issy tells me she's obviously not a real lady; she says all she wants to do is find some air conditioning.

The tour finishes and we're shepherded into a car for the ride back to the hotel. It seems that our driver has a fascination with kangaroos. He asks us and another Australian couple in the car how often we see 'roos in our backyards, and whether we keep them as pets. Issy tells him that we shoot them and eat them. He's horrified. He asks her why, and she tells him it's because they taste good. I quietly suggest to Issy that maybe now would be a good time to change the subject. I'm not sure our driver can quite cope with the concept of kangaroos as food, and if he can't get that thought out of his mind quite quickly I think there's a good chance of us running into the back of a bus.

We clean up and head out for dinner. It's 9 o'clock and it still feels like it's somewhere around 50 degrees. I tell Issy that I'd kill for a beer and that I'm sure I could drink ten beers and they'd come straight out again through the pores of my skin. She tells me she wants middle eastern food. I thought we were in the Middle East, but this seems to be about the only type of restaurant we can't find. We eventually find a Turkish restaurant. It doesn't serve beer, but I'm now too hot and tired to care.

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14th July 2016

Well Dave - yesterday I was out at Loy Yang and it never got above 4 degrees and there is snow on the Strezlecki Ranges. What a contrast. Stay cool and thanks for the blog!
21st July 2016

You are so hilarious! really enjoying your writing. Now there's an idea for your retirement. Travel writer a la Jonas Blakiston!!!! Very cool here. Off to the farm for the weekend really looking forward to seeing Sally next week. love
Deb
25th July 2016

Ok I'm reading the current trip now...ha ha!

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