When in Dubai...

Fauchon. Legendary Parisian gourmet food shop with branches in major cities around the world. Purveyor of some of the best baked goods on the planet. My personal favorite is the classic French eclair, an indulgence that is amplified in Dubai by being draped in real edible gold (inside was filled with salted caramel):

Fillings

I hate going to the dentist. Not for the typical reason of real or imagined pain, but rather the judgement I always face from the dental assistant. Like Groundhog Day, our interaction has become rebarbative and predictable. After socially-mandated graces, the assessment: 

"You have a lot of fillings."

I don't even think I have a higher than average count of them (at least according to my very brief, unscientific Google research) but her reminding me of this with no further professional advice or edict does nothing to change the situation. I am aware of the fact that I have a few fillings. I am also aware of the fact that I love sugary sweets and am addicted to them like the legal heroin they are. Praise modern dentistry for allowing me to continue this unhealthy relationship while retaining gleaming pearly whites! And so, as we perform this "foxtrot" year in and year out, I revert to the blood of my stiff-lipped British forefathers, state an emphatic "alright" and sink into the dentist's chair while silently wishing for a cloak of invisibility. 

When my dentist arrives, the man with all the sharp tools and instruments, I am elated. He's a friendly, interesting dude. Knowledgable. Never condescending. Well travelled. On my most recent visit, we discussed Dubai. He's visited a few times. Gave advice on what to see and what to do and then offered to introduce me to a contact of his living there.  

A contact that, by sheer chance, operates a business in the design field! 

A contact that wants to show me "the real Dubai"!!

A contact that may, perhaps, know someone who will let me drive their Ferrari!!! 

My world continues to get smaller. And the dentist's office proves a place of business beyond restoring enamel and making me feel guilty for eating too many Mars bars. 

Resuming countdown...

P.S. - no cavities!!!!!

Dubai Bucket list

I am excitedly counting down the days until I take flight to the playground of the middle east, Dubai. Before any trip, I diligently research and daydream about what I plan to do. For this excursion, there is just SO much that I don't know how to whittle it down (although I'm sure my wallet will decide that for me). Here then is my ultimate Dubai bucket list: 

1. Marvel at the galaxies above from the pitch dark of the desert. The one excursion I booked well in advance was a desert safari. From this seemingly hostile, barren environment arose the great, ultra-modern meccas of Abu Dhabi and Dubai. It will be impressive to observe this stark contrast of nature vs. man's attempts to tame it but I will be truly blown away if my "north of 49" self can survive the day without getting heatstroke. I do not take to the sun well, which should make this entire trip rather interesting. Thankfully there will be plenty to occupy my mind from riding a camel, "snowboarding" down dunes, enjoying a feast under the setting sun, smoking shisha, and learning how to bellydance from a pro. 

2. Haggle at a souq. In Dubai, there is a spice souq, a perfume souq, a textile souq and a gold souq. I plan on visiting them all (even the fish souq!), hopefully returning with items to fill my suitcase with (save for the fish souq!). After visiting so much of Asia, where I mastered the fine art of haggling with a steely, unwavering gaze, I feel quite confident in my ability to negotiate. And if ever in doubt that I'm not about to take home a bottle of pure jasmine oil at a price I can part with, I will use the one tactic sure to garner sympathy: "But I get paid in Canadian dollars".

3. Ski. Despite living in a climate where snow covers the ground for six months of the year, I have never been downhill skiing. Actually, that is a bit of a lie. In junior high, we had the mandatory field trip to the only "mountain" (né slightly elevated hill) within close proximity to my hometown. During my introductory lesson, I witnessed a classmate wipe out and severely hurt themselves. It was at that exact moment I decided sitting in the chalet and sipping hot chocolate was more to my liking. While in Dubai, I do plan on visiting Ski Dubai. Perhaps I will ski. Maybe I will drink gourmet cocoa. For SURE, I will escape the heat. 

4. Photograph the architecture. In another life, one in which I had the focus and drive to sit through many more years of schooling, I would be an architect. Whenever I visit the great cities of the world, this is what captures my imagination; what spurs inspiration for my own, relatively meagre in comparison, art. Architecture is the backdrop of our lives and sets the tone of a city. Dubai is clearly making a statement with theirs; that they are innovative, bold and want to be perceived as one of the world's greatest centres of socio and economic activity. 

5. Drive a Ferrari. It doesn't have to be plated in gold. But if I had a choice in colour, maybe green. Shiny, metallic green. This is my daydream item. Probably not going to happen, but if I really wanted it to, I could make my way over to Ferrari World in Abu Dhabi for an afternoon of racing and riding the world's fastest roller coasters. 

Now back to counting down the days...

"Dubai Money"

"After achieving that wealth, he decided he wanted more. He wanted Dubai money."

Some months ago, I was conversing with a client after a photoshoot. The subject of travel came up, in particular Dubai, a place I have always wanted to visit. I listened intently and was regaled with tales that were downright obscene. The client's daughter had recently moved there with her husband and he visited them frequently. He talked of the insane wealth in the nation, some of which they had managed to procure. Within a few years of hard work and clever investing, they were millionaires. 

I left that encounter intrigued. I like to learn about new things. But moreso, I like to experience them.

In my lifetime, I would really like to experience "Dubai money". 

So that's why I decided to visit and thus extend my year of adventure. 

I'm sure part of that initial conversation was embellished. Or, at the very least, any hardships covered up. Few want to hear about the blood, sweat, tears and setbacks that go into success. Most just want to believe that dreaming big is all one has to do. Because that's all most people choose to do. It's such bullshit. Unless you are born affluent, success comes at great cost. Friends, family, sanity. At the end of the day, for some, it might not be worth it. I thrive on it though. I love the challenge of setting a goal and meeting it. My ultimate goal is to look back on my life as I near its end and be proud of the person that I was, rich or poor.

But we're on the topic of wealth now, so ... I'd still really like to experience "Dubai money". 

The one problem, of course, is that I will be visiting as an imposter. I am not rich in Canada. I am certainly not Middle-Eastern rich. After doing preliminary research and trying to establish a daily budget (with an increasingly sinking dollar), I quickly realized that I will probably be frequenting the McDonalds in the mega-mall located next to my hotel. They have a value menu, just like my home and native land. In terms of activities, I'm a cheap tourist. 95% of my time is spent walking about doing photography. For the remaining 5% this trip, I am willing to laze about on the beach. That should be free. I hope. 

All in all, I am very excited for the experience, whether or not it includes driving a gold-plated Ferrari. But if someone could hook me up, I am so down for it. I drive a Nissan. 

Redux

I set out a goal in 2015 to live a year of adventure and feel I fared pretty well. So often we get caught up in the motions and minutia of everyday existence – wake up, go to work, return home, vegetate and complain that life is passing one by – without actively trying to improve the situation. I've certainly been caught in that vortex. It's unfortunate that a traumatic life event was the catalyst towards re-evaluating things, as I would have loved for my father to meet the person I am today. But even without this sudden motivation, I still needed a completely uninhibited best friend to keep me committed to the challenge of truly stepping outside my comfort zone. 

It's been exciting.

It's been life-affirming.

My confidence has been raised.

My fear is practically non-existent. 

My entire goal in life, now, is to be as bad-ass as my father was. As he was considerably legend in this regard, it's a grand proclamation. And while it may seem easy to write about personal growth from a position where I can actively entertain it, exacting change doesn't have to be a herculean journey. The most powerful initiative I undertook last year was in simply opening my heart. It was, however, harder than climbing a mountain. 

In 2015, I studied a lot. I learned a lot. I traveled. I explored. I loved deeply. I got hurt deeply. I was empowered. I was vulnerable. It was my year of adventure. 

In 2016, it shall continue. 

Next stop: Dubai. 

Bang!

On New Year's Eve, 2014, I made the decision to boldly live the upcoming year by challenging myself to do things I normally wouldn't. Or couldn't. I dubbed it my "year of adventure" and it has been such. I visited the most heavily militarized border in the world. I climbed a mountain. I've been an active student in learning the ways of the world through my heart, mind and soul. And so, I now feel it needs to end with a bang. 


I often visit aircanada.com to research fares, even if I'm not planning on going anywhere. It's a great distraction; for someone who daydreams as much as I do, this habit offers plenty of inspiration. This particular day, I decided to look into a place that has intrigued me for years but which I've never actively considered because of the astronomical VISA fees associated with visiting it. It was always financially out-of-reach. 

But VISA fees for Canadians were recently lifted. 

And holy shit - there was a fare the week of my birthday (convenient) that wasn't much more than traveling to Eastern Canada. I bought it on the spot and would sort out the details later. Spontaneity is also a trait I've developed and embraced over the past year. Keeps life exciting. 

My best friend visited that evening. As usual, wine flowed as we discussed our careers, men and other nonsense. I told her about my news. About my final destination. She went wide-eyed and instantly proclaimed "Ive always wanted to go there. I'm coming with you!". 

And with that, two BFFs are now preparing for the vacation of a lifetime in Dubai. 

Bang!

The Friendly Skies

I flipped through the airline magazine as other passengers boarded the craft. Skimming its glossy pages, which boasted luxury hotels and decadent restaurants that I would probably never experience, I silently rejoiced in the fact that the seat next to mine remained empty. The Boeing 763 has 187 seats in economy class; I guesstimated that this flight, enroute to Canada from Japan, would be three-quarters full. It seemed I would get to stretch out. A lucky break for someone trapped in such a confined space for over 9 hours. 

But I jumped the gun. 

"Is this the right seat?"

He appeared to be about my age. His eyes indicated he was either tired or spent too much time (and money) in a Narita lounge. 

"Yes, I'm by the window", I replied. Before I had time to curse my situation, my new flight companion threw his rather large carry-on bag beneath the seats in front of us. It barely fit. After sitting down and making himself comfortable, he quickly went to sleep. Not before extending his limbs into my own leg space though. "Fuck", I thought to myself. 

Flying is easily one of the most stressful things one can partake in. Airports are stressful. Boarding and departing is stressful. Eating the disgusting food and wondering how you are going to digest it is stressful. This guy – this sleepy, possibly inebriated, feeble, inconsiderate man – was now stressing me out. I started to feel claustrophobic. The vastness of the ocean below couldn't cure it.

I "accidentally" bumped my elbow into his arm, which now also occupied the armrest between us. He didn't budge. Fuck. I tried making a lot of noise while rifling through my purse and clearing my throat repeatedly. It appeared to act as a lullaby, soothing him into deeper slumber. Fuck. Nine hours. Nine more hours of this hell. I then started to wonder how I would make it to the washroom. This guy was't moving for anything. 

"Something to drink, miss?"

My saving grace. My angel in an Air Canada uniform. After handing me a glass of water, the stewardess did the unthinkable – she shook the shoulder of my sleepy, possibly inebriated, feeble, inconsiderate neighbour, asked if he desired a beverage and then informed him that if he wanted a window seat, there was an empty one a few rows up. He took her up on the offer, grabbing his giant carry-on and leaving my life, armrest and leg space forever. I was so thankful. So relieved. Sigh. So comfortable. 

I spent the remainder of the flight stretched out across both seats, living large economy-style. 

Gudetama

I had never seen or heard of this character before, but it is EVERYWHERE in Japan. You cannot escape it. Created by the same company that made Hello Kitty a world-famous brand, "Gudetama" is an egg that appears to take sloth to a whole 'nether level. From toys to textiles to office supplies to a café offering customers the chance to eat the poor thing as it looks on horrified, Gudetama has become one of my favourite things.