Dubai was never on my vacation bucket list. It always struck me as the most sanitised version of a city. I have always been drawn to grit: roadside food stalls, loud bazaars, old buildings with peeling paint. The man-made utopia seemed over the top, superficial and cold. I had written it off after my one visit years ago.
So when an invite came from the Dubai Tourism Authority to spend a few days in the city, I wished my editor had picked someone else. Not only was I going to a place I’d dismissed, but I was going alone. After two years in publishing, you would think I would be comfortable travelling solo. I was not. I like company. People, noise, Netflix. Even when I am alone, I want a voice in the background, a show running, someone on the phone. There is something raw about being left with only your thoughts for company.
When I first entered my room at Jumeirah Marsa Al Arab, it felt unmistakably Dubai. The marina stretched out in shades of blue, dotted with yachts. I was greeted by my assigned butler, Catherine, who calmy answered every question, no matter how small or silly about my stay. The realisation that I had a packed itinerary and no company was unsettling, softened only by the sight of the king-sized bed waiting to swallow me whole; a promise of comfort if I decided not to leave the room at all.
My first lunch was at Illiana in Jumeirah Marsa Al Arab. The restaurant was beautiful, all coastal interiors and soft light, but I could feel my discomfort sitting there by myself. I ordered a crab salad and a cappuccino and forced myself not to look at my phone. The salad was bright and the coffee velvety. Dubai was showing off again, just as I had expected, but I could not help being impressed.
