What would you do with an 8 hour layover in the Middle East? Go blow the only cash you have for the next 2 weeks, that’s what! Holy Oil Wells, Batman—a little rich for my blood! Oh well, I suppose that’s politics. At least they let me out of the airport. I say this only because when I asked if I could leave and come back (sans visa), they asked where my passport was from to which I replied “USA.”
Maybe it’s a weird perception…maybe it’s an outdated dichotomy between our two countries, but I thought of all passports, mine would be asked to stay inside. Ignorant. Even dumb. I learned.
Dubai, from the small sample which I saw, was very shiny and touristy and nice. I ate well, I went up in the Burj Khalifa, I saw the fountains, and walked around a pretty swanky looking hotel with Peter.
This all happened on the way to Australia, where we had a loooong layover in Dubai, and I figured to make the most of it. Glad I did–can’t wait to go back some day and hang out with the hoards of people just cooling in the outdoor smoking restaurants.