High life, low life

TV Terry is back in the sandlands, on a themed high life:low life holiday.

The high life includes some alpine excercise on the snowy slopes of Ski Dubai, where Terry excels at the reverse snow-plough - the quickest way to do the splits on skis. Other lofty attractions include the 50-storey glass lifts at Emirates Towers, a balloon ride high up over the Creek, and brunch at the very peak of the Burj Al Arab with its panoramic views of The Palm.

The low life involves a safari in the narrow alleyways and dive bars of the Golden Sands area, taking in Bur Dubai's increasingly endangered nocturnal wildlife, potholing in Cyclones and whatever what-was-the-Arif-Castle is now, and tunnelling through the shady souqs in hope of excavating some cheap souvenirs.

All the way up, and all the way down.

Blowing bubbles

"World First, Groundbreaking Real Estate Announcement"

There are three of these taking place within two days next week, all at the Burj Al Arab.

Clearly there is more optimism than originality in Dubai's real estate market.

Biggles Sweeps the Desert

Pilot Biggles touches down in the sandlands, ferrying a planeload of rich elderly American tourists on a "Great Trade Routes" luxury air holiday.

"Every single one of them looks like Blanche from The Golden Girls, with extra Botox," he reveals.

As the lowly airborne bus driver, Biggles has to amuse himself while the gilded grannies enjoy tea at the Burj, shopping at Harvey Nichols, and other traditional UAE cultural experiences.

It has been five years since Biggles was last in Dubai, and he doesn't recognise a thing. The thick forest of skyscrapers on Sheikh Zayed road was then a thin copse, with DIFC nothing but the twinkle in a sheikh's eye.

Mall of the Emirates was just a hoarding in a patch of desert reading "Souq Al Nakheel" Conversely, in a kind of restoring-equilibrium-to-the-universe, Oasis Mall is once again nothing but a hoarding. Half a decade ago, the only buildings to the far south of Dubai were the lakeside buildings at Internet and Media City. Now, an army of vast towerblocks looms over them, stretching down to the gargantuan Marina edifices and the grim shadowy slum of Jumeirah Beach Residence.

In another five years, Dubai will be an entirely different city again. Biggles will instead be landing at Jebel Ali airport, with his geriatric flock enjoying the attractions of Dubailand and the Deathspire. The Burj Al Arab and Mall of the Emirates will be nothing but ancient relics, lying disused and deserted in the dust.

Seven star shootout

Great excitement in the sandlands today, with an alleged fatal shoot out at the Burj Al Arab:

DUBAI - A Russian millionaire was killed in an alleged shootout, while another man was seriously injured in the incident that took place at the Burj Al Arab Hotel here in the small hours yesterday.

The victims, according to a hotel source, were guests. Unconfirmed reports said the millionaire was staying in one of the suites. Two men, known to him, entered his suite and shot him dead in the course of a drunken brawl, these reports said.

But more thrilling than the actual report has been a day of vanishing stories and changing details, as well as various unprintable information arriving from various sources. A brief timeline:

Thursday am - KT prints the above story
Thursday midday - KT removes the story from its site
Thursday afternoon - KT publishes another story, claiming a Syrian, not Russian, died
Thursday afternoon - KT pulls that story too
Friday early morning - 7Days prints a more detailed account

This time there's no gun, and no Russian millionaire, but the details - of a fatal diamond heist - are even more gruesome:

"The Russian men were really big and banged Rhami’s and Illiyas’s heads together literally. Illyas’ head has swollen and has almost doubled in size,” the friend added.

The Burj needed something like this, it was getting a bit faded and old-hat. Now its drama and mystique are back. The world's most expensive - and the world's most thrilling - hotel.

Never say no

TV Terry was taking a disconcertingly long time in the Burj Al Arab bathroom. Could the elf-sized sandwiches be disagreeing with his undelicate British stomach? The mystery is revealed when he finally emerges from the marbled-lined, gold-plated luxury lav:

"I had to take some snaps of the hand-towels - they've got them all rolled up and arranged into a big pyramid thing strewn with flowers - amazing!"

Such is Terry's reverence for Burj bathroom beauty that he couldn't even bear to unroll one and destroy the sculpted cloth monolith, so he dries his hands on the tablecloth instead.

Another matter of intrigue is found on the "comments card" handed out at the end of Afternoon Tea, which asks: "Did we ever say no as a first response?"

According to the waiter, this means that whatever the enquiry, the answer will always be "yes, you may have four more gallons of Darjeeling" or "we can offer you some strawberry jam instead of moonfruit", but never "no, no more tea you guzzling fool" or "no, we don't serve food from Mars."

But what happens, for (a completely unlikely certainly-never-happened-before) example, where a male guest asks a female staff member if she could visit in his room?

"In that case we won't give him the comments card."

The Mile High club

If the beautiful Deathspire wasn't ambitious enough, Dubai very nearly ended up with a mile-high tower, five times the height of the Burj Al Arab.

According to building boffins a super-tall tower is structurally feasible, just not financially or logistically practical. The fastest lifts in the world would take at least two minutes to reach the top, assuming people didn't get on and off at various floors in between, and no one suffered motion sickness or vertigo.

The mile-high miracle was supposed to be built by Japan's Taisei Construction, who should have found it no sweat since they previously planned a 4,000 metre, 800 storey tower called X-Seed 4000:

"The current status of the project is unknown, but it is understood that the mile high tower may have been mothballed following the appointment of James Wilson as Nakheel’s chief executive in February, who arrived at the company from IFA — one of the biggest investors in Nakheel’s Palm Jumeirah and Waterfront projects."

It's quite obvious why the mile-high tower never got off the ground: as previously pointed out, Dubai has simply run out of names. After Emirates Towers, Burj Dubai (Dubai Tower), Burj Al Arab (Arab Tower) and Al Burj (The Tower), there is absolutely nothing left to call it.

Highest of high teas

With few oil sheikhs to be found in Dubai's many malls, Margery decides to have a last shot in a more refined environment: afternoon tea at the Burj. After roasting herself for the past week by various pools and beaches, and buying every flounced peasant skirt the sales have to offer, the formerly lilywhite prim schoolmarm is now a nut-brown gipsy temptress.

"Traditional tea" at the Burj Al Arab is an interesting concept: largely because it is a tradition found nowhere else throughout the known world. Except perhaps - on a reduced scale and renamed "Devonshire" - at Ye Olde Tea Shoppe, Stratford upon Avon, served expressly to baseball-capped, camera-strapped American tourists named Hank and Velma.

Alas for Margery while Hank and Velma haven't yet quit quaint Britain for ay-rab-land, their British counterparts have. Far from sheikhs or sultans, the nearest thing to royalty is an apparent pearly king and his queen on an adjacent table, telling the waiter what a super holiday they have had:

"We've bin avin' a luvverly time, treated like royal'ee everywhere we've bin."

Fortunately fresh scones, dainty sandwiches and petit-fours numb the disappointment, and Margery decides on a bit of culture rather than clubbing for her final evening. Abra-riding across Dubai Creek in her elegant tea-gown, her dainty ankles attract plenty of attention, but for now she has given up on a Middle Eastern paramour. Instead, Margery is off to Guernsey, where hopefully plenty of burly, woolly-sweatered fishermen await.

Casino Al Royale

According to Official Expat History (rumourmongering, gossip and half-truth) Al Muntaha restaurant at the Burj Al Arab was originally intended to be a casino. Al Muntaha is the pod-like structure that sticks out at the top of the back of the Burj, and does the world's finest Friday brunch - where people get gold leaf stuck in their teeth rather than spinach. It is a restaurant of hideous decor, somewhere between a Britanny Ferry "Pullman Lounge" and Sydney's Star Shitty Casino.

So legend has it, the idea was to get around the UAE's strict anti-gambling laws by having the casino effectively off-shore, as the Burj is on an artificial island. Sadly, it transpired that international waters start somewhere a little further than thirty yards from the beach. Various histories have the hotel - US$1 billion/10 billion/100 billion, pick your price - being paid for by the Uber-Ruler Sheikh Zayed (to compensate for its construction cost not being recouped by casino funds) and then being given back to him as a gift (such that he could also absorb its vast operating costs).

With Arabs being the perfect target market for gambling: rich, superstitious, bored, somewhat lazy and wasteful of money, with a general get-rich-quick mentality (think oil just lying there in the ground) something was needed to fill the gap.

Thus: lotteries, prize draws and raffles. Win a car, win one of 100 cars, win your weight in gold, win 100,000 dollars, win a million dirhams, spend more than 100dh at the Dubai Shopping Festival and enter a draw to win win win win win win win.

But now, unsurprisingly, they are at last coming under the mullah microscope. The National Consultative Council wants the government to "clarify and review" its rulings on raffles, lotteries, competitions and other promotions offering attractive prizes via telephone, radio and print media.

They claim to be concerned at those on low-incomes being lured into spending money on premium rate phone calls to enter radio competitions. More likely they are hugely embarrassed by UAE accents on Dubai FM continually guessing the wrong year to a Phil Collins ballad, not knowing the date of JFK's assassination, and failing to guess the name of the seventh Beatle.

Seven Star Journalism

Has the Burj Al Arab mounted its own private campaign against dire newspaper journalism in the UAE? What other reason could there be for its staff preventing five journalists - including Khaleej Times, Gulf News, and three Arab newspapers, from attending a recent press conference? Magazines and TV were ushered in with all ease and hospitality.

How heartening to see the Burj expect the same standard of quality from the journalists it admits as from its guests. Only... those would be the same guests frequently seen wearing tracksuits, hotpants, and other badly fitting and ill-advised clothing in the main lobby: clientele far more suited to a low-end trailer park than an ultra-high-end hotel.

No wonder the Burj has now banned photography in its atrium. If word - and picture - got round about its guests, at least two zeros would have to fall off the room rates to maintain even its usual five percent occupancy.