Globule Village

Th 2007 Global Village once again demonstrated that axis of evil countries have by far the best pavilions with the most interesting wares. Cell Block G is currently bedecked with Iraqi rugs and paintings, spices from Yemen and sweets from Syria and Iran. It makes one slaver over the prospect of what a North Korean pavilion would offer.

For some reason the Global Village closed unusually early this year, but luckily not too soon for TV Terry to miss out on the ferris wheel and greasy shwarmas. While he had a delightful time, he wasn't perhaps moved to the ecstasies of "grandma" and "little one" in a Khaleej Times article so excruciating that it serves as a more effective emetic than riding the Booster right after brunch at the Burj:

“I love the way the city is dressed up,” quipped the little one, skipping along. “All bright, cheerful and colourful. It makes me...hmm.. happy,” she said, adding as an after thought, “I also want my face painted with red, pink and blue butterflies.”

Terry had his face sketched by a talented Iranian artist who flipped a coin to decide whether to draw his glasses in at the end. The portrait is not yet hanging in the National Gallery, but given Terry's "Mona Lisa smile", it probably should be.

“It is the smaller beauties,” she said softly. “What do you mean grandma?” asked the little one, suddenly screaming with delight when a breezy young lady handed over a pink balloon to her.

Terry nearly died laughing when a tantruming brat let go of its balloon and had to watch it escape into the sky. Hopefully it was "little one". Though it might have been more enjoyable to watch if little one had remained attached to the balloon as it vanished forever into the night.

“Grandma, are you forgetting the entertainment in parks,” chanted the little one, hands on hips, posing artfully in front of the Syrian bazaar. “Do you think we can savour all the flavours of the world in 45 days,” questioned the little one, evoking a hearty chuckle and wink from her grandma.

Terry got as far as Lebanon and Thailand in his gastro-safari, where he probably doubled the latter country's GDP with the amount of Thai Fruit he ingested.

The Rio de Janerio carnival was so full of colour and...” said the little one, leaving the sentence midway as she danced off to see the splendid fireworks splashing hearts, pink and green palm trees and glittering red on the skies above the Global Village.

Terry missed the fireworks because he was stuffing his face with two chicken shawarmas. However the pops and bangs were vaguely audible above the noise of the crowd.

“Do you know dear how DSF is spreading joy all around?” asked grandma.

Unfortunately at Cell Block G, it seems to have spread plague, as inmates drag aching bodies through a litter of Lucozade bottles and Panadol packets to retch yet again. Or maybe it was reading Asma Ali Zain's article that induced the sickness.

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.

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."

Scalp and Brimstone

Lurking among the gleaming metal birds and general aviation paraphernalia at the Dubai Air Show were plenty of unpleasantly-named Weapons of Needless People Slaughtering. While aviation obviously involves the military sector, it is a pity that hardware offering various levels of "lethality" can't be confined to defence and military expos.

TV Terry is over from the UK on a filming commission. A veteran of aviation shows, he watches unimpressed as a gold-robed Saudi inspects a private double decker jumbo, his retinue standing at the ready with camel bags full of riyahls.

"Face it, for that bloke to drop half a billion clams on that plane is the equivalent to you buying a schwarma. And that's including the solid gold taps and 18-hole golf course he'll have had it fitted out with."

Graceful little private jets dot the runway around the jumbo: it dwarfs them like an elephant surrounded by ants.

"I expect his servants will ride those," Terry remarks.