By WENDY SQUIRES
The guide had to be joking. Then again, we were in Dubai, a place where the extraordinary is commonplace.
Since arriving in the modern desert oasis, I had been shopping in the Mall of the Emirates, which just so happens to have its own ski field. Not bad, considering temperatures outside often rock the high 40s.
Not to be outdone, a visit to the largest mall on earth, Dubai Mall, saw me scooting past an enormous aquarium and Olympic-size ice-skating rink on the way to stock up on Marks & Spencer knickers and macaroons at Galleries Lafayette.
I had seen the world’s tallest building, the sublime Burj Khalifa, an elegant monolith that looked like God had dropped her Art Deco earring, only for it to land wrong side up in the sand.
I had swum at Jumeirah Beach looking up at the unforgettable uber luxury hotel, Burj Al Arab, rubbing my eyes in disbelief its 321m-high sail is not really Neptune’s yacht about to take off in a strong wind.
I had dune-bashed at high speeds, the driver turning the golden sand into a spray behind us like a wave about to dunk our Jeep. I had smoked a shisha pipe under a full moon in the desert, ridden a camel, had my arm tattooed in filigree henna and waited beside burqa-wearing women at air-conditioned bus stops.