Deliveroo bike tailgated by a persistent and overly attached Land Cruiser

Well, I thought I’d seen it all when I was tailgated by a school bus in the rain a couple of weeks ago.

I hadn’t – tonight’s tailgating episode left my eyes as wide as saucers!

Trundling along, I heard honking to my left. 

In Dubai, honking horns is like a game of musical chairs, except instead of chairs, you’re fighting for road space. Instead of music, you’re treated to the soothing sounds of car horns blaring at once.

Pipping the hooter is a national pastime. It can be both cathartic and frustrating. On the one hand, you feel satisfied when you let out a good, long honk after someone cuts you off or merges into your lane without warning. On the other hand, the constant noise can be overwhelming, like being stuck in the middle of a never-ending parade of angry geese.

And don’t even get me started on the different types of honks. There’s the short, sharp honk that says, “Get out of my way”; the long, drawn-out honk that says, “I’m so angry I can’t even form words”; and the friendly honk that says, “Hey there, fellow driver, let’s share a moment of camaraderie in this sea of chaos.”

But the best honks are entirely unintentional. For example, when someone accidentally leans on their horn while adjusting their sunglasses or scratching their nose. It’s like a sudden burst of noise that snaps you out of your driving trance and reminds you that you’re not alone in this crazy world.

But I digress. I looked left to see what the commotion was all about. There was a Deliveroo driver on a motorbike travelling beside my car. Now, I happen to think these riders are like real-life superheroes, but rather than saving the world, they deliver your favourite food right to your doorstep. They magically transform your hunger into happiness within minutes.

These food delivery ninjas must be quick on their feet, able to dodge traffic like a matador dodging a bull. And just like a matador, they must be brave, willing to face the dangers of the open road, armed only with a smartphone and a can-do attitude.

And let’s not forget the challenge of finding the right house, especially when the house numbers are in a cryptic code that only the Illuminati can decipher.

To my horror, the poor Deliveroo motorcyclist who had drifted into the faster lane was being tailgated by a Land Cruiser with blacked-out windows. This wasn’t just any old tailgating. Oh no, this was tailgating Dubai-style. It was like the driver, a shadowy figure sitting superiorly higher than the bike rider, was auditioning for a role in the next Fast and Furious movie. The poor, vulnerable Deliveroo rider could probably see his own alarmed reflection in the Landcruiser’s flashing headlights. 

All ended safely, thank goodness, though the motorcyclist did have to swerve out of the way as fast as he could. I do hope he got a big tip at his delivery address.

The next time you see a Deliveroo driver speeding down the road, give them a wave and a cheer because they are the true food delivery champions!

Power games in the left lane

My rearview mirror flashed in blinding strobes as the Land Cruiser behind me almost rammed me at 80 kmph. I was being tailgated and the impatient driver’s trigger-happy finger on his headlights wasn’t about to relax.

But where to move to? There was traffic to my right, and anyway, his huge, ugly car meant I could hardly see if the right lane was clear. Changing lanes didn’t feel safe. I stayed put and gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles showed white. My heart rate sped up.

dubai-spaghetti-junction

Another problem with Dubai roads

I was already doing 20-over the speed limit and there was a bend coming up. For a moment, it looked like he might overtake on the hard-shoulder; he zigzagged to the left, then to the right, and finally zipped round me on the inside.

Then he came in front of me, and nearly stopped.

My foot slammed onto the brake, and my heart leapt into my mouth. I’m pretty sure it skipped a few beats. My throat tightened.

Behind me, the next car, thankfully, slowed right down and put his hazard lights on, two beacons of orange flashing urgently.

But what was the urgency? This, dear reader, exemplifies everything that’s wrong with Dubai roads: the road hogs with their blacked-out windows who have zero respect for other people’s lives, who tailgate aggressively, and who, like my one on my way home from work yesterday, was so filled with adrenalin he thought he’d teach me a lesson for not moving over and swerve in front of me and drive like a slug.

If he wasn’t in his car, behind glass and steel, and was instead walking behind me in the mall, would he walk right up to me until he was so close I could feel his hot breath on my neck, and then push me out the way? No he wouldn’t. So why does he think it’s okay to do this in his car?

I didn’t appreciate being bullied like that on my way home from work, MORON.

8 people you meet on Dubai roads

As well as the school-run, my experience of driving in Dubai also involves going backwards and forward to work. For the most part, I don’t mind this commute, as I at least get to sit down and listen to my favourite radio station rather than the sound of Boomerang or Disney Junior blaring like a car alarm from the TV.

It’s really more of a bumper-to-bumper crawl than a drive, as the roads in Dubai have become so much busier with the swelling population. Dubai is back, and so are the traffic jams, parking problems and construction road closures (and that’s just the school-run).

It’s during my time on the roads of Dubai that I’ve noticed certain character traits among my fellow commuters, and I feel these should be documented, as there are so many different levels of stupidity behind the steering wheels of fast, powerful cars in the UAE.

Here goes:

The queue jumper: You’ve paid attention to the construction signs and got in the correct lane. Mr Important has ignored them for miles, and now wants to be let in. (Not going to happen).

Driving in Dubai

A fine example of parking in Dubai

The flasher: He appears out of nowhere behind you, intent on making sure there’s no daylight between your back bumper and him. If you don’t get out of his way immediately, he starts flashing his lights, and might even try to sneak round on the hard shoulder. It’s a lane, after all, in his mind.

The stuntman: This one is the wannabe stuntman in a 4×4 driving on two wheels down the emirate’s busiest road, while his pal in a pick-up truck performs handbrake turns. (I’m not making this up, it happened on SZ Road.)

White van man: He’s even more terrifying than the Mr White Van Man you know from home. He last drove a rickshaw and now finds himself licensed and working in Dubai, with Schumacher pretensions. Except his vehicle is not exactly top notch. Packed full of workers, his van has strips of yellow and black caution tape on the back and his own mobile number on the ‘Am I driving safely?’ sticker – and he’s weaving in and out like it’s a slalom race.

Mr No-Rules: Oblivious to everyone around him, he believes indicators are only for Diwali, and thinks nothing of reversing up an exit if he’s missed his turn. He can often be spotted holding his mobile to his left ear with his right hand, texting, eating or clearing out the glove compartment while at the wheel. Rummaging round the back is not beyond him.

The slow poke: For a reason I’ll never fathom, he thinks tootling along in a fast lane at 60km/h is safe driving (or is he actually enjoying staring into his mirror and seeing the traffic behind him peel off in all directions to get round him?).

The road hog: On driving up a one-way street by mistake, it wouldn’t even cross the road hog’s mind to reverse and turn around. Hell, no. The correct course of action in Dubai for those who don’t want to be inconvenienced is to insist the cars driving in the right direction squeeze past you.

The mum-truck: I have to slip her in because we all know who she is. She sits high and proud at the wheel of a 7-seater that’s far too big for her, and can’t park to save her life. She bullies her way around roundabouts, waves people away like she’s on the Yellow Brick Road, and insists on driving 6,270 pounds of metal right up to the school gates, wielding cupcakes.

Bad manners on the roads

My drive to work isn’t long – 25 minutes or so – but negotiating Dubai traffic can be an adrenalin-fuelled way to start the day.

I hate being ‘extreme tailgated’ – a rude and all-too-common gesture where a car tails you at speed with a 5cm gap, sometimes flashing its lights until you’re intimidated enough to move over. Or tries to sneak round on the hard shoulder like it’s another lane.

Since my route to work is on a two-lane speedway, I’ve had several motoring menaces ‘up my bumper’ over the past few weeks – including a wannabe stuntman today who I was still honking long after he’d disappeared over the horizon. The %@*{xy£x&z!

I mean, if I was walking along, would he come sprinting up behind me, breathe down my neck, jostle me until I fell sideways into the path of a Lycra-clad jogger, then run away at speed? No, he wouldn’t! He wouldn’t dream of it. He might think the metal box he’s sitting in means he’ll get away with it, but it’ll catch up with him, I thought to myself.

Seriously, how hard is it to park in one space? Would you sit on two chairs at a crowded venue – would you?!

My other pet peeves are ‘the weavers’, who hurtle in front of you if you leave more than a five-foot gap, ‘the wrong turners’, who reverse back down exits if they’ve left the highway too soon, and ‘the idiots’ who make right turns from the left lane.

I probably should add that bad driving encompasses all social groups in Dubai and women certainly aren’t exempt. Cup-cake-wielding mums in frilly dresses sometimes start gnashing their teeth with aggression once they’re behind the wheel of the family 4×4. I’m constantly amazed at the honking, the pushing and shoving and the inconsiderate parking that takes place on the school run.

But back to my commute: my other worry is a new speed camera on my route that I keep hearing about. Apparently, it’s causing a lot of controversy for being set at a really low speed, but I don’t know where it is – which means I’m suspicious of every lamp post or road sign I pass. And it’s not always easy to keep to such a low speed when you’re being shunted along from behind.