I could have easily slept through the whole day, I am that tired but instead at 11.00 Kathryn wakes me up and cooks me breakfast. Potatoes, beans and broccoli, not a combination I would have thought of but by her own admittance she is not a goddess in the itched so there is not much in the way of food in there but this seems to work. By 1.00 the three of us are in the car and of we go to pick up Richard from Ikea before the 4 of us drive around Dubai as the others point out buildings to me and then pointing out the most iconic building in Dubai, the one in the sea. Do you want to take a picture? Kathryn asks me, I can stop. I’ve been very lazy with the camera lately and today as well I am not in the mood so say it’s fine don’t bother. It’s the wrong time of year, the sky is a dirty blue and there is a smog kind of whiteness everywhere in the air. Not smog or pollution I am told when I ask but a sandstorm which makes everything look muted in colour and besides I have other another pressing matters on hand, I need to pee.

An emergency stop is made at a petrol station for the use of their toilet and refreshments are bought before we go back on the road on the way to Abu Dubai. Slouching down low in our seats we consume our food. I have to bend forward and hide under the glove box every time I want to take a swig of water, this is madness I tell Kathryn but she reassures me it’s the way to go, people have been arrested for eating or drinking in the daytime during Ramadan. Right now I am guessing a drug habit would be more socially acceptable in this country then consuming food while the sun is up in the sky. No one would probably bat an eyelid if I stood on a street corner injecting myself with heroin but pray a morsel of food or drink should pass my lips and I’d be banged up for life. Bizarre. I feel dirty, I feel like I have a dirty little secret I am hiding from the rest of the world when I just want to drink some water. All these big cars with blacked out windows passing us, I bet they are having a picnic in there. The Emeriti’s are playing a joke on us; I bet they are at home stuffing themselves silly while the expats starve. It’s a way of getting rid of all the weaker ones. Most of then are down the pub after sundown any way, how is that being a good Muslim? Bloody hypocrites.

We drive around Abu Dubai and then Kathryn takes us to the Old Palace which has been converted into a hotel. Here like in Dubai everything is larger than life, nothing is just something, it’s trying to be something great. The buildings in Dubai are just not buildings; they are over the top wannabe masterpieces’. None of them to my liking but every new building put up is trying to out-do the previous building created. Dubai is just like keeping up with the Jones. Like everywhere else in UAE the palace is totally over the top as well. As the other take a seat in the foyer I take some photos of the marble floor but then am stopped by a security guard, you can not go up unless you are staying here I am told when I try to set foot into the lift. Fancy clubbing your money together to hire a room for 10 minutes so I can take a photo I suggest to the others. As the others go back to the car park I tell them I will meet them at the front gates I want to take some shots of the whole building and by the time I have got to the front gate I am in no mood for photos, it was heard working getting there on foot, it’s so hot that I’m surprised I’m not just a pool of water by the time the others get to me.

Next stop is the brand new mosque, the Sheik Zayed Mosque, parking up we all head to the mosque and yet again it is not just a mere mosque it’s a huge bloody bastard of a mosque, a masterpiece or should it be a monsterpiece? Non-Muslims are not allowed inside Kathryn informs me when we get there. It will be fine I reassure her I will get us in but Richard does not fancy it while both Lisa and Kathryn feel a bit self-conscious as they have sleeveless tops on, if anything that will be more of a problem I tell them but they don’t want to chance it. So while they go back to the car I see if my charm can get me inside or that failing my temper ;). Sorry visitors are not allowed inside I’m told by the security guard as he spots me trying to blend in, but being the only female who’s face and hair is on show and in trousers on her own kind of gives me away and that’s even before I take the camera out. You will have to come back tomorrow morning, between 9.00 and 11.30 and join the tour he adds before standing in front of me and the object of my interest. So what are they doing here? I say pointing to the other people in the courtyard walking around taking pictures on their mobiles. They don’t look like they are praying. They are Muslims madam I’m told. Well so am I I reply, from Pakistan and he looks at me as though he doesn’t really believe me but come on who in their right minds would lie to get into a mosque? I’m finally allowed inside but first I need to cover up he says, they have freshly laundered black cloaks and scarves. Putting them on I head for the main courtyard trying not to trip up over my gown and having a lot of trouble keeping the scarf on my head. Trying to keep them under control and the my backpack along with my camera I’m a walking catastrophe, not very elegant not that I am at the best of times, I’m like a car crash, every body seems to be turning around to see me just trying to get from one end of the courtyard to the other. The good thing is that I do not have to take my shoes off unless I want to go into the building. I spend an hour in there but it’s a rushed hour, I am weary that people are waiting for me and that it is edging towards the opening of the fast and the mosque is emptying of women as it is filling up with men, but the light is great I want to stay longer but finally put the camera away and head back to the car relieved to have dumped the black cloak and scarf, how do women manage to spend all day in that? I only had it on for an hour and I felt suffocated.

Listen up you infidels I laugh as I get back into the car while the others start mumbling obscenities at me. You may go in but have to be there between 9.00 and 11.30 and they provide the most beautiful black all in one sack to cover your non-believing asses. On the way back we stop of at a service station for petrol which coincides with the breaking of the fast and get given a small care package with dates and water but we also buy something to tie us over until we get back to Dubai but it is nice to eat with out trying to fit under the glove compartment. Dinner is back at the Ramada Hotel and back at the bar, I order fish and chips and when they do eventually come an hour later they are just not worth the wait or the cost, that’s 10 quid not well spent at all. Dubai is not grabbing me at all but I am glad I did the stop over, it’s a gentle re-introduction back to the western world and prices but the biggest problem is I do not want to go back to London, I want to get on a plane back East.

Buying some cough syrup on the way home the other two go to bed while I stay up and surf the internet until 12.30 before I too retire for the night.