I’ve always said that, given half a chance, opportunity knocks in Dubai – especially for those who, having given up a career and life in their home country, are forced to reinvent themselves. I’ve known so many friends who have discovered that pursuing their existing career in Dubai isn’t straightforward, and instead have taken up all sorts of new professions, from chocolate taster (after signing a diabetes waiver), mystery shopper and film reviewer on the radio to teaching assistant, maritime law specialist and interior designer. One minute you’re wondering what the hell to do with yourself, the next you’re designing cushions for the Sheikhs. Okay, that might have made it sound a wee bit too simple. There’s also a lot of hard work involved, but if you’re prepared to go for it, there can’t be a better city in the world in which to reinvent your life. Opportunity knocked for me this morning, in the form of a (mildly terrifying) invite to appear on Dubai Eye’s terrific Saturday morning show Talking of Books. I said yes, while thinking, “Me, really??” then consoling myself with the thought that, being radio, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about my hair or what to wear. (How wrong I was! Turns out these things are all live-streamed these days – hence the screenshot above from Facebook!) My boss at work, who frequently appears in the media, was delighted when I told him. It’s easy, he said, bestowing a confident smile on me. “Don’t take notes in – just speak off the top of your head!” I inhaled a sharp intake of breath. Let’s just say I’m glad HE was full of confidence. The thought of going in cold like that sent a panicky shiver through me like the start of panic attack.   And so I prepared beforehand as though I was about to sit an exam. Except it was a whole lot more fun than revising for exams. My task was to review Cecilia Ahern’s new novel Postscript, the long-awaited sequel to her best-selling debut PS I love you, and I loved the book. I also enjoyed swotting up on little nuggets of information about Ahern – such as the fact she was only 21 when she wrote PS I love you, and fresh out of college (How impressive is that?). DH helped with a practice run to the Arabian Radio Network building in Media City, and by the morning of the radio show, I figured I’d done enough prep to get me through.

I asked Son1 (from here on in known as The Teenager) if he was interested in listening. “Naah, it’s okay Mum,” he said from the sofa, where his PlayStation controller was sat in his lap. Headsets – similar to the pair I was soon to wear in the studio (left) – cupped his ears as though he worked in ground control. 

“Really? You could just listen to a few minutes,” I retorted indignantly.  He yanked the headphones off and gave me a glazed-eye glare. “You can watch it on Facebook!” I helpfully suggested. The Teenager spends HOURS, and I mean DAYS, glued to YouTube, so why not watch his mum on Facebook. “Maybe you could take a screenshot?” “Facebook? I don’t know how to use Facebook,” he replied, in the manner that 13-year-old kids adopt whenever anyone mentions this particular form of social media. Facebook, The Teenager believes, is for oldies.  So much for impressing the kids. When I got home, The Teenager asked what was for lunch, and had I ordered the groceries yet? But he did watch a clip of Talking of Books, in the end, with an agonised, embarrassed smile on his face, the blood rushing to his cheeks at the sight of his mum being live-streamed! And, just a few minutes ago, I heard Son2 pause whatever nonsensical jibberish he was watching on YouTube and tell his friend: “My mum was on the radio today!”