On route to the beach, we came across two peacocks, much to my delight.

The beautiful blue peacock displayed his fan of elegant feathers and appeared to be doing a courtship dance as he approached the less attractive, brown-feathered peahen. I was enchanted by the display.

Even the boys seemed impressed. I might not see a Robin Redbreast anytime soon, but the male peacock, a bird of the Eastern world, had just more than made up for it. Even better, my mood was rapidly improving. 

Our end of the beach was blissfully almost empty, just a couple of families watching their children playing in the surf. We set out our towels and sat on the sand, which had been combed so there were neat grooves running the length of the beach. The beach was far better groomed than my kids’ hair. 

I stared at the sea, which was still there, and the horizon, which was still there, and the kitesurfer being pulled along by the wind, which was still blowing. I realised I felt properly alive for the first time in weeks. Then we all plunged in, and experienced something else we hadn’t had much of in weeks. Fun. 

On the way back up to our room, fifty minutes later, two things came to my mind: that I felt really, really normal, and that this was the first time I had felt properly human for weeks. In the terror of the pandemic, I think we have forgotten that we are allowed to seek happiness, that having fun isn’t breaking Covid rules. 

There has been such judgment about people, that at times it’s been easier just to suffer, as if feeling anything other than anxiety or misery is in some way belittling to those who have sadly lost their lives to this truly dreadful disease.

But this Eid, I hope everyone will try to do one thing that makes them happy (as long as it’s within the Dubai government’s rules). We must do what we can to keep going. We must remember there is no Covid rule against searching for hope.