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 hot and cold

When first arriving in Dubai in July 2001 and staying in the glorious concrete splendour of Golden Sands 5, the bathroom taps were something of a puzzle. They were wrongly labelled for a start. The hot (marked cold) got piping hot, but never scalding. No matter, since it was July, and boiling showers weren't particularly appealing.

It was several weeks before one of the hotel staff pointed out the water heater switch.

In fact the taps weren't reversed at all. The hot water was actually sitting in some form of insulated tank, not being heated. The cold water was sitting in some unsheltered rooftop tank, exposed to 50c heat day in day out, and was extremely hot.

Most buildings in Dubai are like this. The "switchover" - when you stop using the water heater, and let the taps swap their roles, is the definitive sign that summer has arrived. There can be an uneasy period in Spring and Autumn where the cold is not quite warm enough, but if you put the heater on, the cold is too warm to dilute the hot.

It's not mandatory in UAE construction law to build sheltered water tanks, so this uniquely Gulf phenomenon is likely to continue for some time to come.

Glorious Golden Sands

A visitor inadvertently mistakes the latest edition of the Ramadan doormat as a newspaper, and brings the execrable rag into Cell Block G. This week's exciting "exclusive" is so exclusive that it was recounted a week previously by Lola LebCan, already eighth hand, to half of Dubai.

The scene: Golden Sands 6, in the very unlovely concrete jungle of Mankhool, Bur Dubai. The players: one angry and embarrassed dishdash, two Russian ladies of the night, and one conerned concierge gently inisting the other three make their party elsewhere. Action: one fatal stabbing of the concierge by the dishdash. This tragedy is not mere theatre, but film - captured entirely on Golden Sands' CCTV cameras.

Very sad, but also strange, as according to Official Expat History (=rumour, obvious untruth and conspiracy theory) the (unofficial) decision to tolerate prostitution a few years back supposely resulted in a 97% drop in all crime.

An acquaintance hack has booked to stay at Golden Sands for next month's Air Show. I will suggest he packs his war zone kit.