Your name's not down, you're not coming in...

My sister Rachel, her partner and one of Ian's best friends Bert, and nephew Seve, arrived yesterday to stay with us for a week.

As their flight was overnight, and realising the lack of sleep they would have had, we arrange for a 'nothing day' of chilling on Barasti Beach, eating and drinking the day away... Sadly, this was not how it worked out.

Meeting them at the airport was weird.  The waiting area of Terminal 1, is outside by the road and full of every nationality waiting for people.  There were those holding name placards waiting for business people to arrive, they do not know.  There were a couple of men holding bunches of flowers, looking on and round others expectantly, and there were those, waiting for family just as we were.

I was excited; the thought of 'Seve cuddles' and that I had not seen him for three months was spurring me on.  He is only 2 years and 4 months, so he changes every day and therefore, the time away is lost time for me - Especially as I used to live within 2 miles of them previously so I got to see him all the time.  Oddly though, I hadn't realised how much I must have missed Rach.  When she arrived I gave her a big hug and promptly burst into tears (yes, I know, PDA's are very much frowned upon out here, but when there are Emerati men kissing each other hello on the lips, I don't think a sisterly hug would have offended anyone)!

Rachel though, much to her embarrassment, managed to leave the alcohol and perfume that she had brought in Duty Free, on the plane.  With her banging headache, we walked into the terminal and up a flight of stairs to Airport Police, who then told us to go back down the stairs, through the next building, down to ground floor and carry on to the third building.  In there, we were to go to the lost and found.

The third building was old.  Rather reminiscent of a terminal you see in the movies of a 1960's film with dark wood and marble floors.  Here, we were informed that we had to go past the rows of rent-a-car cubicles to the elevator, take the elevator down one floor and turn right.  We copied these instructions, but on going down to the lower level, we were taken to a windowless grubby room in white, with 4 office doors on each of the walls, and on all doors said 'Authorised Personnel Only'.  Luckily for us, after a few seconds of 'should we, shouldn't we' deliberation, a man came out of one of the doors and after asking if he could help, herded us through the door to the right and another windowless corridor.  He then ushered us into a small office with government officials.  Here, within 5 minutes and after taking Rachel's passport copy, she was given back everything.  

When we got back, we did the obligatory tour of the facilities and showed everyone where we lived.  We wasted no more time in walking across the road to the beach as we had been building it up big time to Seve because he had wanted to stay by the pool and play on the climbing frame and slide at the building.  So by the time we got there, Seve was full of "Daddy making sandcastles and me knocking them down again".  Sadly though, when we arrived, we were told that as it is a bar, the minimum age is 21 and therefore, Seve could not come in unless we were eating in the restaurant.  Gutted!

We went for lunch (more so the boys could have a few pints and I could have a cocktail) and looked out onto the ridiculously inviting beach.  It really did feel like we were the donkey with a carrot being dangled on stick that we just could not reach!  We then did that thing that parents and grown-ups do to kids, you know, when they back track massively and 'forget' what they had promised, rewriting the rules as they go, in the hope that the children won't notice.  Whilst this may not work with an 8 year old, a 2 year old is a different matter, "And when we go back, we can go in the pool and you can play on the slide!" Bert said, steering him away from building sandcastles on the beach.

"Yes please...!" said Seve beaming.  That afternoon was a pool afternoon, with Rachel and I trying to convince Seve to walk carefully around the pool for fear of him slipping over.  Ian spent the afternoon either in the pool with Seve and Bert, or being dragged to the slides with Seve whilst Bert slept and Rachel and I just caught up.

Last night, after a day in the sun, Rach and I had a quiet night in whilst the boys watched the football at Barasti.  Start as you mean to go on lads!

Arsenal Soccer School Sweep the Board!!

Last night, Arsenal Soccer School played a tournament against local side Soccer Stars Dubai.  

4 Arsenal teams competed in the tournament held at The Sevens and ALL 4 teams swept the floor with their opponents.

Age                 Arsenal        v           Soccer Stars Dubai

6                            12                              0

8                            5                                2

10                          8                                0

12                          6                                2

The under 12's actually played twice - against their under 12's and under 14's.  They had been playing so well that Ian changed the play and told them to play 2 touch...  They still managed to beat them.

"I was really proud of the way all the boys performed today, " said Ian "They outclassed the opposition in every single way.  I am my players worst critic, but today I couldn't fault them!"

Ladies Night!

Tuesday nights in Dubai means only one thing... Ladies Night.  A night when women all over Dubai, put on their glad rags to go out for a night of free booze, fun and frolics.

Yes, you heard me correctly, Ladies Night in Dubai means that my group of girls had a whole night out for 5aeds (£1) - And this was just for our taxi kitty.  Seriously.  I got home about 12.30pm - It would have been later as I had orroriginally planned except for the toast and marmite that was calling me.

Blends at The Address

Actually, Ladies Night is not just a Tuesday night phenomenon.  You can find at least two bars every single night of the week that offer free drinks to women and this does include weekends.  The reason that Tuesday in particular is termed Ladies Night, is because there are so many bars which all compete for your patronage.

First we hit Blends at The Address in Dubai Marina.  This is a bar that we normally go to on a Wednesday for our free Salsa lesson and then dance the night away with two free cocktails.  On a Wednesday, the bar is heaving - Standing room only.  This Tuesday however, this was not the case, although in fairness, we had been told we went there too early.

Blends at The Address

Blends is a big bar.  One of the biggest in fact.  As you walk in, there is one long bar to the left of you, lit up in white with rows of spirits on the wall behind it.  Half of the bar is taken up with dancefloor.  Ladies night cocktails are Strawberry Daiquiris or Margaritas.  Playing it safe, and remembering my abhorrent aversion to tequila the morning after the night before, I chose the Strawberry Daiquiri despite the fact I detest strawberrys.

Now, I had previously been told that I would not be able to taste the alcohol.  Happily though this was not the case as it completely masked the taste of strawberrys.  When poured, it kind of had to be eaten.  It was more of a pink alcoholic melted sorbet - Completely my thing!

Whilst Blends do provide you with unlimited refills (you just have to take your glass to the bar), we only stayed for a couple as it was just too quiet, and took a 10aeds taxi to Senyar at the Westin hotel.

Here, you are given three tickets which you are able to redeem against either house red, white or bubbles.  Clearly I chose the bubbles, all three times.

The Westin

Senyar is a lot smaller than most bars and always packed.  It is also full to the brim of people scoping the room for what we laughingly termed as 'their kill'!  with the men buying whatever expensive drink it is that they want, and the women with their beer goggles taking into account men, that ordinarily they would never consider.  Whilst this bar was not made up of only English (there are lots of locals, Asians, Indians and Europeans too), the later it got, it did remind me of Brits abroad all-be-it WITHOUT the 18-30's element.

I had a great night.  The drink was flowing, I spent just £1 on a taxi, and the group and myself didn't stop laughing.  Sadly, Ian didn't join us.  he finished work and just couldn't be bothered to come across the road to meet us.  That's not to say he won't next time though!

Happy Hijri!

Today is Hijri, also known as Islamic New Year.  It is the day that marks the beginning of a new Islamic calendar.

Since the Islamic year is eleven to twelve days shorter than the Gregorian year, the Islamic new year does not come on the 1st January 2012.  While some Islamic organisations prefer determining the new month (and hence the new year) by local sightings of the moon, most Islamic institutions and countries, follow astronomical calculations to determine future dates of the Islamic calendar.

A day in the Islamic calendar is defined as beginning at sunset and, apart from prayers, is celebrated in the same way we would celebrate new year - With family dinners and gatherings.

The beauty about Hijri is that it is a public holiday for everyone.  This means a shorter working week and a long weekend.  Tonight itself is 'dry', meaning that alcohol will not be served in hotels or restaurants, so it is unlikely western expats will go out out tonight.

That includes us.  We are celebrating at our friends house over a home cooked dinner - And drink!