I went to the Burj Al Arab, Dubai's iconic first 7 star super-luxurious-and-exclusive hotel , today!!!!
A flickr-photographer friend treated me to a buffet brunch :D
it.
was.
uhmayzing!
*********************************
Well, what can I say, how do I start?
Malek, a flickr friend of mine has been keeping contact with me for quite some time now.We always planned to meet along with the rest of the KL-flickr family but he was always busy, and I of course, had my SPM examinations. He wanted to come for my farewell, but due to complications, once again we didnt meet. No big deal really , not meeting him. I always talked to him on msn, and he was the person who always gave the adult perspective for all my problems. A good lad, and once I was in the UK and now Dubai, I always thought meeting him isnt gonna be easy.He's half lebanese and half english , a 39 year old daddy of two boys.
So when he told me he was in Dubai, I was so happy! YAY company! what more a fellow photographer.Ive been doing nothing but slowly rotting my brain cells away being locked up in four wide white walls and falling into a boredom-triggered coma. He told me he was here on a business visit but did had few days off. So we planned and planned and I suggested any mall would do , trust me, Dubai has so many malls, its not funny. People in Dubai breathe the smell of couture more than anything else , mind you. There's about 5 malls near my house, and he was staying at the Grand Hyatt.
"sophie, where do you suggest", he asked
"umm any mall is fine with me, im easy! ", I said , a little too enthusiastically.
"haha, somewhere special la, somewhere nice"
"all the malls here are nice", I continued
"any nice good restaurants", he asked again
"loads", I confirmed
"how about the Burj ? have you been there? "
"*gulps*, Gosh no, but hey, thats too expensive!, its cool really, any mall, its the company that matters"
"you've been a good kid, ill let you be the princess of the day", he said
"haha , aiyohhh. really, its okay" ( he'll never be able to book a place this last minute )
But..... by the miracle of the Hotel Gods, he did.
I was SO excited I almost twisted my ankle doing the G-slide.
"make sure you dress nice, if not they wont let you in", he requested
"oh yeah! sure, no prob", I heard my voice falter off.
OH effy eff eff. I had NO nice clothes!! nothing Burj Al Arab worthy. This matter was as funny as being bitten by a rabid dog. He told me, NO jeans. stick a fork in me, im done. Whatever garments I had with me was what I brought from Malaysia to London and whatever I bought in London ( exactly like 3 tops, all non Burj Al Arab-le). Mostly winter things. I can already imagine me, walking into the Burj, all smug and flared nose-like, drooling over the interior only to be halted abruptly by a concierge who gives me a once over, and being kicked in the arse off the hotel's Own Little Island.Oh the terror.
But....by the miracle of the Wardrobe Gods, I found something to wear.
I had a white long-sleeved top and pinstripe pants. phew.
I booked a cab to go meet him at the hotel and from there we would go together . ( dont think naughty2 he's a friend. )
Before I left, Dad gave me an inspection and said, why dont I try my mum's Abaya ( long black cloak thingies that arab women wear, minus the scarves ). If you can fit it, he continued. HAH well, daddy, my gym work paid off and I could fit it. I did a twirl, my abaya swishing so elegantly around my ankles and my dad gave me the green light to go.Once the cab driver called me, I was shocked to see who the cab driver was. I specifically ASKED for a Pink Taxi. In Dubai, Pink Taxi's are taxis driven my women only. Its for women who are alone and dont feel comfortable driven by a male specimen. But what I got was the average red top taxi, with a fecky male driver inside who did'nt and couldnt pronounce my name right. "You, Sufi?? You calling for booking?? Sufi yes? Where you going?". I didnt want to be late meeting Malek so grudgingly I entered the cab, Abaya bellowing behind me and complained my guts out to him.
"I called Pink Taxi, why are you here?", eyes glaring with much gusto.
"I dono mam, they sent me, maybe pink taxi not available"
"Shinu Hatha mafi? Wallahi I booked ( Whats this not available, Im telling you I booked!)", I said, showing off my arabic. Taxi drivers are afraid of arabs, and since I look the part, memorizing a few brisk lines accompanied by muchos brow-raising wasnt hard.
He didnt say anything. Serves him right!!
I reached the Grand Hyatt, and gasped. It was really Grand. Marble lobby,marble pillars, glimmering, squeaky clean floors , high gold painted , echoey ceilings and hotel assistants, resplendant in their pristine, over hair-sprayed hair and over obsequious expressions.Their eyes analyzing how much I earned and if my Gucci bag was real.There was even palm trees in the lobby! Poking out around a sitting cum cafe area albeit surprisingly, not looking weird at all.
My eyes darted from wall to wall looking for Malek, and when I met him, he said another friend of his would be joining us and that we should have coffee while waiting for that friend of his. Um okay, I thought. The more the merrier anyway . Plus, this is my first time meeting Malek, another dude would break the titanic iceberg, perfectly. We talked over my apple juice ( dad made me a cappuccino before I left, additional caffeine intake would result in me bouncing off the the marble Grand Hyatt walls, my is-it-real-or-fake Gucci, dangling from my neck ) and his turkish coffee and I was happy that no iceberg needed breaking. I was a chatterbox and himself, being english is a friendly chatty type too. We took a few pictures of a little walk-through garden in the hotel, with lush green plants and a chained waterfall. After a few snaps , his friend called and we walked out of the hotel. His friend was there waiting, in a black sleek sports car, rooftop tucked neatly in the car's rear end.His seat, folded to let me in and sit at the back.( not much space at the back, well duh, sports car mah, but again, gym paid off. My lady bumps and lumps fitted in the seat, perfectly).Id murmured some platitude while thinking how lucky I was, and how cool I was sitting in this car.
Off we drove , blistering cold winds whipping my face, while I tried to look as cool and collected as a nun.Alas, my lovely blow dried and combed hair was in shambles and knotted beyond belief. I was squinting in my seat from the winds and the sun. Khaled, Malek's friend , noticed my slightly amusing expression and threw a spare pair of shades in my grasp. Not just any pair , *cough cough*, it was Prada. I was waiting for the Dream Gods to pull out the plug from this seemingly fun dream. I carefully put the shades on, careful not to let the winds whip it off my face and smack it against the roads behind us.And walla, I looked so diva I gave Mariah Carey a run for her money.
We reached, and my excitement heightened.Upon entering the security gate, I saw loads of people all outside, taking pictures of the Burj Al Arab. You're not allowed on the Island unless your name was in The List ( or you pay like 55 bucks just to cross the bridge).Gates were shut uninvitingly until you told them your booking number, when they would gladly open and usher you in. We drove in, without anyone looking askance at us, and I thought to myself, about a few weeks ago, I was one of those people , taking pictures from the outside.
We drove along the singled out bridge towards the hotel , the gorgeous, gorgeous periwinkle green sea crashing beneath us. the hotel's private beach was beautiful.Stunning really. It was dotted with white umbrellas and beach beds.The sand was beigy-white and the urge to swim kicked in. The last time I watched a program about the Burj was on the discovery channel. First 7 star hotel wah. as we approched the hotel, its distinctive features cut a sharp edge through the tan sandy surroundings.Standing on a manmade island just 180 feet short than the Empire State Building ( so I was told ), and being the tallest hotel in the world - the main structure appears to billow in the wind. It is a white, sail ( as in boat ) shaped building standing 54 ( if im correct ) commanding stories above the Arabian Gulf.
We parked the car Our car was instantly robbed by the jocky as soon as we arrived and here are a few shots of the view from the Burj :
"um excuse me, we'd like a ride to the Emirates Mall please", her graying husband asked, in his shorts and expensive leather loafers.
"ah yes, sir, if you would wait a second your ride will be here", enthused the hotel assistant in his maroon uniform, smiling , his white teeth blinding me senseless.
I was waiting for him to say "and here is your ride sir, hands semaphoring the car next to him, a gorgeous deluxe big pristine white Rolls Royce" but nah, a normal red top taxi appeared. I guess im expecting WAY to much. Although I did see a fleet of those RR's at the side, gleaming in the sun boasting utter luxury. Before being completely enveloped in a membrane of luxury, I snapped away in the lobby. Taking in all the beautiful details.It was overwhelming, at one point maybe a little tacky with all the rich colours, but somehow it worked. The tackyness worked.Deep blues , purples, oh-so-very araby.You enter in this hobnob glass thingy that rotates and you're greeted by a lady with dates ( no not men, sadly, im talking about fruit ) and a guy with with a gold tray placed with thick strong, arab coffee.Malek asked if I wanted the dates or coffee and my lips almost spat out a YES but I thought about our brunch later and quickly retracted my words on his offer. save room in yer tum tum, sophie, save room.
I wanted to ask someone if like Trump stayed here, heck, I wanted to grab one of the concierges and shook them seriously, asking which room Eva Longoria and her husband stayed at. But I was afraid everyone would laugh at me scornfully and tell me to shag off.
So we went up the escalator, eyes glued to the aquarium built-in to our right homing hundreds of multicoloured fish of different shapes and sizes, and eyes glued to the one of a kind fountain on our left, spurting out water in semi circles producing beautiful geometrical shapes, with colourful lights changing now and again, tantalizing the mind. We reached the top, looked up and the pain of the extremely beautiful interior knocked the breath out of my body.Most of the people around me were guests staying there. they dressed so elegantly I looked like a lumpish peasant next to them and my coarse unworthiness rendered me mute. I became a clenched atom of curiosity and oxygen deprived haha. I tried to emulate their panache, but it didnt work.
We asked the reception where Junsui restaurant was ( the one we were going to ) and she said GM 1 or something like that. But as soon as we entered the lift - with assistant inside- we got it wrong and it was on another floor. HAH, she made a mistake!!! The Burj receptionist made a mistake! nananananananaaaaaa.okay okay, so anyway, then Malek wanted me to go on the other lift, that takes people to the Sky Restaurant.The lift, one of the fastest (ear popping 6m/s) was a joy! The glass walls enabled us to get a gorgeous view of the sea and other construction sites in Jumeirah. One that caught my eye was this island called The World. Why? because its shaped like the world's continents. So yeah, you can like "buy" Malaysia, if you get what I mean. Your land would be the shape of a um, Jantung Pisang. I heard something like Rod steward bought a place. You have no choice to get to the island either by boat or Yacht *cough* I should say ,or by a helicopter.Id like to buy Singapore. Ive booked it already actually. Yep, I did. In a parallel universe.
After reaching the top, we went back down and headed for the restaurant. When we entered we were greeted instantly by smily smily waitresses who knew exactly which table was ours. One of the waitresses actually gave us the tour of the restaurant. Guiding us towards each of the twelve cooking stations birthing authentic asian cuisine. From japanese food, to indonesian, to chinese. Bursts of flame from woks and tasty smells filled our nostrils and sent our tummies amok. We settled down at out table, cutlery perfectly positioned, napkins placed on our laps and ordered our drinks. I had a passionfruit iced tea , like Malek. YUM. I ate so much its amazing I didnt fall sick. I had braised duck, dim sum, satay, tomyam soup ( I miss asian food! aaaaa), sushi, cendol, ice kacang , rice ( !! ) , beef cooked in coconut milk. All were so tasty I came back for seconds.
"okay guys, Im full", I begged.
"what, waittttt we havent had dessert"
"..."
I saw it, my soulmate. A chocolate fountain. I know you can get em anywhere, but this was my first time eating chocolate dipped stuff. I have a healthy fondness of confectionery and if I had it my way, I wouldnt just dip strawberries and macarones and raspberries under the pouring chocolate but everything I owned as well. The chocolate was heavenly. Thick, rich and delicious.I wanted to take it home. Im gonna buy myself one. Ive written it down in my Things To Buy Before I Die list. A matsalleh lady got it all over her toes. the chocolate of course, so yeah I didnt feel so looney :D . We went for seconds and thirds and I had a good laugh with us telling each other stories from menopause to ghost stories to THIS story :
Malek's friend Khaled, told me , since I was into photography, that his close friend is Madonna's personal photographer. I almost choked on my 100th chocolate-drowned strawberry. He said that his friend even got to listen to Madonna's latest music tracks that NO ONE else has heard when Madonna was impressed and happy with his shots of her.Khaled said his friend sent the music to him too and said it was brill. I was godsmacked. I know a guy who knows a guy who shoots Madonna. I was counting my lucky stars. ah feck that, my lucky planets and galaxies too. This only meant one thing to me, CONTACTS. although im not a fan of fashion photography so much, anything is possible with contacts.I wanted to drain Madonna-related juicy gossips from him, but decided it wasnt my place. My mind was fantasizing meeting all these other famous photographers and being whirled into stardom.
I excused myself and went to the bathrooms. Now, we all know the number one test whether a hotel is nice or if ANY place is nice , is by judging its loos. Its a weird human nature thing. We MUST check loos. Even if the whole hotel was made out of gold, we wouldnt give a rats ass about it if its toilets wasnt checked and given our stamp or approval.
I made my way, and was dissapointed at the size. It was really nice, but small. The mirrors were lined with a white light which made ringlights in my eyes and Hermes perfume and lotions tucked respectfully under it.The ceiling was mirrors too and that gave a nice touch, but nonetheless, sorry Burj, I wasnt impressed. ( haha )
After we had tea, we left and Khaled took me to the floor which had the spa on it to take pictures of the super exclusive upper part of the hotel ( reserved only for the super rich and royalty , 7 thou a night ). I took a few more pictures of the view from on top of the respective floors and was surprised to see that EACH floor had a reception desk.LOADS of reception desks then. Khaled told me each reception desk only deals with customers on its floors and the well being of the suits on the floor alone. Wow, why does Khaled know so much? Obviously he has stayed here before and I was right when I asked him.
"how's the rooms like", I asked him
"tacky, SO SO tacky", he said, and smiled
"no way?? you serious!", I gasped
"seriously", he assured
I keep thinking the Burj is nothing but a cacophony of temptations and a terrible lassitude overtakes me and I had the urge to run and storm into one of the suits to see if its true. haha.
But alas, until that day comes, I would never really know if it IS really tacky. Probably is. They probably went easy on the tackiness on the outside so they can go crazy on the inside.We went downstairs, took a few more pictures, stole the car back from the jockey, and I tied my hair as tightly as I can ( didnt work, it still blew and slapped me on the face from the winds, causing ocular moistness ) and left :D
The sun was setting as we left, and I savoured the golden light bathing us as we exited the compound and made a mental note of how lucky I was and to remember each snapshot my memory made of the Burj Al Arab. I couldnt thank Malek and his friend enough. All they kept saying was to remember them when I become a world famous photographer. I wish, I told them. ensuring them that maybe in the next life haha but not this.
ill leave with more pictures :)
more pictures,soon!
[this is good]
omg, iv heard its amazing!!! take me next time (^_^)
xxx
Posted by: bottled emotion | 01/25/2008 at 10:14 AM
hey...came across your post on the new posts list. do you have any pictures?? i've seen pictures, but it'd be cool to see some from your perspective instead from a hired photographer in a helicopter! very cool!
Posted by: .:JuSaMee:. | 01/25/2008 at 10:28 AM
you're lucky! glad you had a good time :)
Posted by: nxsa nxsa | 01/25/2008 at 05:50 PM
[this is good] well written.
they should use all that bling2 to help their fellow arabs (read palestine) though.
Posted by: jimlucky | 01/27/2008 at 01:34 AM
they should, but Dubai is allocating loads of cash for other middle eastern countries not as well of as Dubai, though with so much corruption and mismanagement going on, its hard to see actual results of the money donated :(
I wouldnt mind a bit of bling myself. haha
thank you for reading!
Posted by: eirecolleen | 01/27/2008 at 01:41 AM
sophie! *salutes ya*
your vocab is expanding! brilliant entry! I laughed [hard] at the part when you said you'd like to dunk everything you own in the chocolate fountain :D I thank God that you write like you speak, because your humour dominates here, and there's no gift I like better than loads of pretty pictures and a good laugh.
elle xxx ooo
Posted by: scatterbrainiac | 01/27/2008 at 08:10 PM
come to dubai! we'll go visit :D
Posted by: eirecolleen | 01/27/2008 at 10:09 PM
hi there! , yep ill be posting LOADS of pictures, stay tuned! :DD
Posted by: eirecolleen | 01/27/2008 at 10:09 PM
i am verrrrrry lucky, haha sometimes i just wait for some eejit to appear out of nowhere and yell " SMILE! you're ON CANDIN CAMERUHHHH"
Posted by: eirecolleen | 01/27/2008 at 10:11 PM
awwh thank you so much el, coming from you that made my week :) *hugs*
the only reason why I write these posts is for you anyway, since you told me write down everything thats happening while im away, so im glad you enjoyed reading it! :DDD
Posted by: eirecolleen | 01/27/2008 at 10:13 PM
J E A L O U SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD:
glad you had fun tho :D :D
Posted by: supernab! | 01/29/2008 at 01:21 AM
hahaha awww thanks nab! datang la dubai! we go! :DD
Posted by: eirecolleen | 01/29/2008 at 02:48 AM
1st, lucky is not a word that describes it enough! 2nd, the fishies, they're from around the world or something right? 3rd, while you're there, please,please persuade the DIC to buy Liverpool from the Americans? Pretty please....?
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