Glamming it up in Dubai!

Last week I found myself in the hot and sunny climes of Dubai, researching my next book. For those of you who haven’t been there Dubai certainly is a one off – a five star building site with immaculate beaches, out-of-this-world hotels and the odd mosque thrown in. Due to my authorly (is that even a word? Can I invent it?) persuasions I had got us a complimentary stay at the luxury five star Atlantis hotel on the Palm. As our chauffeured car glided (or should I say hurtled – Dubai driving is terrifying!) along the main road to the hotel, it rose up out of the distance like something from an Aladdin cartoon, all arches and turrets and spiky minarets. Actually, that is quite a good analogy – think Disneyland meets Las Vegas with a touch of glamour thrown in and you’re there. And it’s huge – 1539 rooms, Michelin-starred restaurants, spa, dolphin centre (natch), aquarium, its very own water park…

Enough of the brochure speak. We checked into our room and I left my happy boyfriend enjoying a fry up on the balcony while Chelle, the hotel’s PR took me on a tour. As Saffron might say, OMG! The place is dripping in whimsical opulence; I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many shell chandeliers and cornices in one place. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a shell chandelier anywhere before, ever. I can’t really imagine them hanging from any ceiling in Churchminster, except perhaps Brenda Briggs’ place. She would love this place!

Of course, I had my notepad in hand and was scribbling away furiously. The place is so magnificently OTT, it’s going to make a great place to set a story. And when Chelle took me to the Poseidon suite, a three story affair complete with butler and bathroom that backs onto the aquarium so you can enjoy a glass of champagne in the roll top bath as a shoal of stingray float by… well, I knew I had discovered Caro and Benedict’s future suite. Not that I can say much more, but they are in for a very eventful time when an unwelcome face from the past makes a dramatic appearance….

All that sightseeing had made me rather tired so we took to the pool. From then on the week was a happy blur of sunbathing, Cosmopolitans and nice men whose sole job it was to come round and clean your sunglasses. It might not be as virtuous as a volunteering holiday in Africa but it sure was fun. All that was left for me to do was lie back, slap on the factor 50 (Clementine would have killed me if I’d gone any lower) and pretend I was in a Jackie Collins novel. And I have to say; I rose to the occasion admirably.

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