Who left the oven on?

Screen Shot 2016-05-18 at 22.27.53At school drop-off this morning, the usual line-up of big cars jostled for position up and down the length of the road. This nearly always involves double-parking then running into school at lightning speed to deposit Son2, before hot-footing it back to move my vehicle.

I’m Speedy Gonzales. The last thing you want at that ungodly-hour of the morning is to get back to your car and find you’ve blocked someone in who has a dental (or hair) appointment to get to. I’ve messed up before – a mum was waiting for me, her penciled-on eyebrows hovering somewhere near her hairline. We had ‘words’. Never again.

This morning, I glanced at the woman parked in front of me as she grappled with a shiny, metallic-silver sunshade. She attached it to her car’s windshield as though she was blindfolding the window. It’s common practice here if you’re leaving your car outdoors all day. Apparently the deflective heat shield stops the dashboard losing its colour in the UV light. Whether it also means you can hold the steering wheel without being burnt when you return to your car, I’m not sure.

Screen Shot 2016-05-18 at 22.29.55

Breathing through hot, sticky treacle takes a little know-how 

We’ve reached that time of year, you see. When you step out of your car into the heat of the morning and it’s only 7.45am. You lock the doors with a click and breathe in air that’s already heavy – thick with a cloying sultriness that turns your car into an oven while stationary.

 

At work, I’ve noticed the journalists don’t particularly want to go out to meetings anymore. I don’t have too far to walk from the car to my office building, but by the time I enter the wide, glass doors, there are already beads of perspiration forming in the fine lines on my forehead and between my shoulder blades. The office, in contrast, is blissfully cool and I take a moment to enjoy the feel of the air-conditioning hitting my skin.

I feel very lucky, actually, to be in work when the temperature rises. As well as AC, there’s a circular Dyson fan mounted on a pedestal, which somehow cleverly wafts a breeze over without any moving blades. You can even put your head in it. In fact, I hear more complaints at work about being cold. When my friend texted today to say she was ‘dying sweating by the swimming pool while her boys had their swim lessons’, I thanked my lucky stars.

But still – we had a good, long stretch of perfect, cooler weather (5 months), and all the cloud seeding the UAE has being doing to make it rain has been much appreciated.

Dubai summer – I’m ready for you. Until I’m back on afternoon school-run duties during the hottest, sweatiest part of the day.

Silent Sunday: Sky

There’s a good reason why I love the Middle East at this time of year, but this weekend I left the clear, bright-blue sky behind and landed in what looked like a frozen tundra. Still, there’s no place like home! (Once I got over the reverse culture shock and sorted out a serious wardrobe malfunction, aka, not owing a coat.)

The deep blue...

The deep blue over Dubai

A serious wardrobe malfunction meant I landed without a coat - happily, I now own one!

Circling over London’s Heathrow airport while the runway was de-iced

PS: That’s DH at the front flying! Makes it look like I was doing a spot of tail-walking, no?

You’ve been warned – NO ice cream!

I must stop blogging about the weather. I know.

Especially as the UK (where I’m hoping to travel to on Friday!) has been brought to a standstill this week with the arrival of an icy but pretty snowmageddon.

My Facebook page is populated by snowmen with carrot noses and stony eyes, and BBC online has kept us updated with ‘As it happened’ reports on the disruption and chaos – so, I’m well aware that here in the UAE we’re getting off, er, very lightly.

But we’re actually experiencing something of a ‘cold snap’ ourselves.

Really. We are. The mercury has dropped to morning lows of 9 to 10°C, and with hard, marble floors, flimsy summer duvets and no heating, it actually feels really chilly.

Pounding the school run in Dubai this week (boot envy, moi?)

Pounding the school run this week (boot envy, moi?)

This happens every year at about this time (see, as proof, last year’s blog post on the desert freezing over), but we tend to forget about it as it doesn’t last very long – say, a couple of weeks – and when it leaps back to 40°C the cooler temps are hard to imagine.

The best thing is being able to wear different clothes – with a sleeve, even Ugg boots and a scarf if you can find these items in the depths of your closet. My mind starts tripping with wardrobe opportunities – until I remember all my winter clothes are from 2005.

I love this weather, I really do; it’s such a breath of fresh air, but the funny thing is how seriously folks in Dubai with outdoor jobs take it – donning several layers, bobble hats, big, thick coats and sometimes ear muffs (no kidding!) like they’re Arctic explorers.

My top prize, though, goes to gulfnews.com for this hilarious news piece, written by the bureau chief in all seriousness and entitled ‘People shiver in the bitterly cold nights’.

After reporting that the temperature had dropped to a biting 2°C in inland desert areas, the article warns people to wear warm clothes, not to stay in desert camps or open places overnight, and – it gets better – to have hot drinks and avoid ice cream as a precaution against colds and flu.

As a former resident of Minneapolis in the Midwest of America, where we survived temperatures that, with the wind chill, dipped to minus 42°C – and where you could get frostbite on your ear lobes in five minutes – I wore my gym shorts on the school run this morning without fear.

xxxxx

Snow, snow, go away – by Friday. I am (fingers crossed) London bound!

Silent Sunday: Fifty Shades Darker

Following on from my Fifty Shades of Yellow post the other week, here’s the sequel! This is what the sky looks like when a shamal (sandstorm) is being whipped up. Pretty amazing, no? And the best way to ensure a sandstorm appears out of nowhere? Have the car washed. Or leave a window open and go out.

Once again, I have my friend Elin Boyd to thank for the photography