Arabian nights
One night in the desert overwhelms the senses.
Friday, September 03 2010 || Travel || BY Andrea Fox
Clunk, the sound of jaws dropping is pretty common in Dubai, the visually arresting United Arab Emirates city, but after three days working in the place we thought we were past the gobsmacked tourist look. Been up the Burj Khalifa, got the T-shirt.
Then we went into the desert one night for a bite to eat.The sight of the Al Hadheerah open-air restaurant at the Bab Al Shams resort had us in a wide-eyed thrall again in about two seconds flat.
Admittedly, we were happy to arrive anywhere with lights and people after our driver had a cross-country moment and took a wrong turn into the inky blackness of the desert night. But it’s not every night you walk into a restaurant on a pathway of red Persian carpets laid on sand, with white-robed men on Arab horses forming a guard of honour and camels hanging out in the dunes.
And okay, the whole Lawrence of Arabia thing with the horse guys fell apart a bit when we turned round to take a photo and one of them had whipped out a cellphone, but you get the picture. Just 45 minutes from Dubai International Airport and we were in the middle of a scene straight from Arabian Nights.
Al Hadheerah, a few camel lengths from the Bab Al Shams Desert Resort and Spa, is laid out on the sand like a massive souk, with the eating and entertainment area at its heart and tented stalls offering quality Arabic souvenirs, henna tattooing, artists at work and couches to lounge on at its fringes. The decor is magnificently simple — Persian carpets on sand, mud walls lined with hanging baskets of market produce, and benches and displays overflowing with sacks of vegetables, fruits, seeds, legumes and nuts — all of it lit with breathtaking effect while around us the desert crouched blackly. Later the moon would rise obligingly behind low dunes to help light the progress of a long camel train through the night and sword skirmishes between the Arab horsemen reliving old conflicts in thundering pursuits across the sand.
But walking around with your mouth open is thirsty work, so time to go to our table for drinks. There’s plenty of alcohol on offer in Dubai — unlike neighbouring Saudi and Kuwait — and delicious cold Arabic mezzah (nibbles like hummus, chargrilled eggplant, cucumber yoghurt, cheeses and exotic salads) and freshly baked breads.
Then we head for more than a dozen rustic self-service food stalls and cooking pits. There was such a variety of food that at a table of 15 people, each of us returned with something on our plates that the others hadn’t yet discovered.
Our culinary explorations through carpeted walkways would lead us to morsels like kebbeh, traditional fried meat with crushed wheat balls filled with minced meat and spices; sambousek, light pastry filled with lamb and pine seeds; falafel; Iranian and Arabic kebabs; grilled seafood and meats of every description; spit-cooked and underground-pit cooked ouzi (lamb); shish taouk, boneless lime-marinated chicken on skewers; and enough exotic vegetables to keep a vegan busy all night. There were at least 10 desserts on offer somewhere in the depths of the souk, but I never did find them.
Blood-stirring Arabic music laced the evening compliments of a live trio, and the entertainment acts were a riot of colour and fun. Predictably, given it was a Middle Eastern dinner party, there was a belly dancer who did things with her chest muscles that had the men (and doubtless a few women) doing the ‘clunk’ thing again with their jaws. (Actually, the Egyptian at our table said it wasn’t a ‘real’ dancer’s belly button, but we weren’t in a mood to be picky.)
During or after dinner you can smoke a hubble bubble, wander to the perimeter of the souk for a camel ride (it’s a roller-coaster experience so maybe the earlier in your meal the better), or ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over hunting falcons. You can do a bit of shopping for presents to take home, get a henna tattoo (Arab women favour intricate work on hand and arm: lasts for two weeks) or find a quiet spot on a couch under the stars to order coffee (the local cardoman-laced local green bean coffee is worth a try).
Casual dress is fine for dining in the desert, and you know your night will never be spoilt by rain.And don’t be embarrassed if your jaw clunks.
Andrea Fox travelled to the Middle East courtesy of Fonterra
