We’ve had a tsunami of visitors over the past few weeks – and the great thing about having friends and family to stay is you get to do some of the touristy things in Dubai, which usually come third or fourth fiddle to the mundane everyday stuff.
And, of course, when home comes to visit, it’s the most wonderful chance to spend time with loved ones – in the sun, on the beach, at the pool and out at dinner. Until the time comes for them to leave, and you’re left sobbing on the sofa that it went so fast.
As well as my in-laws and my parents, my BF came to Dubai. I’ve blogged about her before as her life is more interesting than the grittiest soap opera.
She might not think so but, to me, hearing about her dating adventures is like a dose of reality TV starring my favourite character – and anything can happen!
Take her visit to Dubai’s Gold Souk to do some handbag shopping.
“We have Louis Vuitton, Prada, Mulberry, we give you good price,” called out a handsome fella with dark eyes and a chiseled jaw as she got out the taxi. BF couldn’t resist and followed him down a dark alley, up another one, through the winding streets until they reached a doorway.
There he led BF up some stairs to a thick bolted door, on which he knocked twice and then waited.
When the door opened, she was led into a room wall-to-wall full of copy bags. She bought four Mulberries and went to leave – but not before the handbag seller thrust his phone number into her hand, saying if she wanted to meet up he’d come running.
Then, in the taxi on the way home, she found herself deep in conversation with the driver about all sorts of ‘taboo’ subjects, from religion to marriage.
But her most promising ‘holiday romance’ was the good-humoured man she met on the airplane on the way home, who kept her entertained the whole flight and has since texted BF to see if they could meet up. BF has always harboured a desire to join the mile-high club, but promises me she passed up the opportunity, fearing the consequences on the Royal Brunei aircraft would be too great to bear.
Aside from providing a steady stream of hilarious stories, the thing that struck me about BF’s visit was just how much fun you can have with kids when you’re not the one responsible for feeding them, keeping them alive, dragging them to bed and clipping their toenails.
BF doesn’t have children of her own and admits that the older she gets, the less appealing she finds the idea – but she’s the most amazing Godmother and auntie to at least nine kids.
My boys and BF ran round like lunatics, squirting water at each other on the beach, and making each other laugh hysterically. She didn’t mind when BB puckered his lips as though to plant a kiss on her cheek and blew a huge raspberry – or when he held onto her in the swimming pool calling out ‘Giddy Up’ like she was his personal pack horse.
BF took it all in such good spirit – even when BB cheekily pulled her tankini bottoms down as she was getting out of the pool.
We all had such fun in the sun – and I miss BF (who blogs at lujat71) terribly now.
There is, of course, the possibility that BF, who spends her working life protecting children, will become a parent in the future – if she chooses to – perhaps not through conventional means. But for now – to use BF’s words, it’s a case of loves kids but couldn’t eat a whole one!