Big Bus Tour – Part 2, Or, Khan Murjan Souq

The Big Bus tour took us to Wafi, as I wrote in Part 1, but it’s a mall I have been to 101 times before.  It’s where the hat type shop ‘Oasis’ is located so not only have I shopped there, I have modeled there too!  Yep, it was as strange to do it as to read the words that I have actually modeled!!!

Wafi also boasts an amazing selection of restaurants so I’ve visited a fair few of those.  Then, on top of that, they had a Rooftop Movies series one year.  I don’t know if they still do it but it was lovely at the time!

So given I have been here so often, imagine when I discovered there was a whole section that I had never heard of! Continue reading

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Friendship, reflection and self realisation

In the last few years I have taken a number of hits in regards to friendships.  People who I thought were very good friends have disappeared.  It has hurt, but I have made peace with it.

However, it all came up again this morning when I discovered that someone had blocked me from their social media accounts, except Facebook which they had simply put me on ‘restricted’.  While I knew we weren’t close friends any more, I didn’t think that we were in that place.

I was really upset, actually.  I know it’s a bit daft but I think it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.   Continue reading

New Year’s Eve, 2017

When in Dubai for New Year celebrations, there is only one thing you should do… you should see the fireworks at the Burj Khalifa.  Sadly this year they announced that the fireworks were cancelled and were being replaced with a light and lazer show.

I cannot tell you how disappointed I was.  The only other time I have seen it there was a fire at the Address and half the fireworks were covered by the black smoke billowing from the burning building.

I was even more disappointed for Mum who would have never seen a firework display of that magnitude before. Continue reading

Post Xmas Lunch Waddle

Because let’s be honest… that is exactly what it was!  I had eaten so much that you probably could have rolled me around!  Mum was more sensible than me but declined on the pushing so I took off my very high heeled (for me) shoes and off we went!

Al Qasr is conveniently located next to Madinat Jumeirah.  I always think of it as a souq but actually it is a network of shops, restaurants, bars, cafes and hotels.  The shopping area is all done up to be, in my mind, a Disney style of old Arabic architecture, and I absolutely LOVE it!  Most things are over priced, but it’s a great place to take tourists when they come over.  They can shop and then you can have dinner, all while over looking the Burj Al Arab.

The most photographed view of the Burj!

Continue reading

‘Slight’ delays… again!

It turns out that I’ve been having such a ball with Mummy that I haven’t had time to write any posts!  I knew this would happen because we always really enjoy our time together, but I really tried (for the first couple of days!) to keep on top of things.

Oh well!

I have now decided that I am going to just write as the posts come to me so they may be out of chronological order, but they will all get done in the end!

This is a fairly pointless post really but for those of you who know me well, you will know that I couldn’t continue writing posts that are going to be out of date order without giving anyone a heads up!  It’s not in my skill set!!

So… happy reading for when I eventually get finished!!

(P.S. Where do you actual real bloggers get the time to do all your adventurous things and then write about them AND post in a timely manner?!  If you could write about that and teach the rest of us how, it would be greatly appreciated!!!)

Sticks and stones

We are all told that little rhyme when we are growing up. It’s meant to keep us safe from mean words. 

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. 

It’s great in theory but it’s a lie. Words can hurt horrendously. 

It’s an obvious thing really. Don’t use the n-word to a person of colour. Don’t use the f-word to a gay person. Don’t tell someone they are ugly. Don’t point out someone’s lower than average intellect. 

You know what’s not actually socially unacceptable yet? Telling someone they are fat. 

Tonight I got in a taxi. He was so proud of himself because he remembered me. He excitedly told me that he has driven me a couple of times before. 

Wanna know why he remembered me? 

“I drive you before. I remember you. You fat.”

Now, I doubt he meant any offence. He was just really chatty. He was merely stating a fact. To him I facially look like every other white woman, no doubt. What makes me stand out is my size. 

I had this before. Years ago I slipped down some marble type stairs outside a building. There was water on them. The taxi driver told me that if I wasn’t fat, I wouldn’t have been hurt. 

Both were Pakistani. 

(Which I say not as a slur but as a fact which will play out further along in my post.)

On the flip side, when I got really sick and couldn’t eat properly for 6 plus months so lost a bunch of weight, the Filipinas that I knew couldn’t stop praising me for how sexy I was looking or how I was now beautiful. I wasn’t healthy but hey, I was looking better. 

This is what you get when you live in a melting pot. Society throws you all together and it’s fun. But with the good you have to take the bad. There was no malice meant today or when I fell. There was no malice meant when I had lost weight and suddenly looked more acceptable. But you put together different cultures and add English as a second language and sometimes you get hurt. 

There was no such excuse however for Essex born financial advisor Paul, who shouted at me in the street that I was a “fat cunt” who would never get laid. Why did he do this? (At the same time the Filipinas were telling me I was looking good, as an aside.) He decided to attack how I looked because I didn’t say goodbye as I walked off with my friends. 

I hadn’t been speaking to him. He wasn’t someone I knew. I threw a “bye” over my shoulder as I went off to flag down a cab but this wasn’t good enough for him. He called me a bunch of other things too, to the point random bystanders threatened to call the police. It wasn’t fun. 

My point is that he may have thought I was arrogant or rude, but what gave him the right to call me a fat anything? 

Then there was the guy I was seeing briefly who broke up with me by telling me if I ever wanted a boyfriend, I needed to lose weight. Again, in the aforementioned “sexy” years. 

Why, in this day and age where people are always worried about what they say and not being phobic or abusive, why is it still ok to shame fat people? 

I made it to the end of my taxi journey without crying. I made it two steps away before the floodgates opened. I am a bit embarrassed to admit that but it’s true. Despite logically knowing the taxi driver was just chatting, it hurt to know I am the fat girl. That there is nothing else remarkable about me except my weight. 

People don’t realise that it hurts. They don’t realise that some people, like me, are emotional eaters. I quit smoking. I rarely drink any more. I eat. When I am stressed or unhappy, I eat. When I don’t want to get out of bed because I am so miserable, I get up so I can have breakfast. 

Is it right? No. But it’s me. It’s how I get through the day. I don’t know how I make it sometimes but I do. 

Tonight I am having a glass of wine for dinner. And probably some crisps. Because I am hurting. 

Next time you think something mean, or you make a joke at the expense of someone fat, just take a moment to think. Make time to realise that they are a human too. Give them a silent back slap for facing the world when it’s programmed to hate them. 

Just try and be nice. 

Yay me! Yay you! Yay everyone!

I was just on Instagram having a little chat with the marvelously talented and beautiful Cara of RainyBayBlog (hello!) about self promotion.  She made a wonderful post about her many accomplishments and how proud she was of herself.  She mentioned that she felt a bit “cringy” about being so vocal and we both agreed that it’s something people need to do more often.

As a rule people are much more likely to list the things they can’t do rather than things they can.  Brits especially.  It’s viewed as bragging or being boastful and is left to pretty much every other culture to do.  If you’re a Brit and a women, it’s a near impossibility.

As an expat I have seen this over and over.  I have so many friends that have asked me to Continue reading