Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum writes poetry and has a vision. He is also very, very wealthy. The ruler of Dubai, the capital of the seven emirates that form the United Arab Emirates, has used that wealth to transform a sandy desert on the Persian Gulf into one of the busiest transport and business hubs on earth. Whether you see him as a good poet rather depends on your taste, but one thing is certain – there's nowhere quite like the city he helped to create.
It's the promise of luxury, of excess, of extravagance, of sheer weirdness, that attracts us to Dubai. We will happily tramp for kilometres past hundreds of same-same international brand-name stores to gawp at the parka-clad hordes on the snowy slopes inside the Mall of the Emirates. The thing itself is of only mild interest; the fact that it even exists is what inspires wonder.
Dubai is like a mirage. From a distance, it looks substantial and full of promise. But somehow, close up, that image begins to dissolve, leaving tracts of nothingness between a few gems.
Among those gems are examples of daring and flamboyant architecture. The world's tallest building, Burj Khalifa, is here. Oddly, it's not the tall tower (though that is light and lovely) that excites, but what's on the ground.
An evening promenading around The Dubai Fountain, dining at one of the sumptuous restaurants while taking in the world's largest choreographed fountain system, is a must.
But it's the Burj Al Arab, a structure like a wind-filled spinnaker, that is the iconic image of the UAE. It's like Big Ben is to London, or the Opera House is to Sydney. Everyone wants a gander inside this outrageously expensive luxury hotel but you'll not get in the door unless you're willing to spend. The cheapest option, though by no means cheap, is tea and nibbles at the Junsui Asian restaurant on the ground floor. High tea in the Skyview Bar is glitzier but even pricier.
A little over 2.6 million people live in Dubai, the vast majority of them foreigners. The Emirati men, in their flowing, snowy-white "thawbs" and patterned Arab headscarves, are an enigmatic but languid presence, seen conducting business over pots of tea or ferrying wealthy tourists about. They often have a bemused air on their proud faces, as if they can't quite believe the way their Bedouin tents have turned into skyscrapers and their camel trails into eight-lane highways.
Lately, they've begun to express elements of their culture in their architecture. The restored Bastakia Quarter is becoming a lively nightspot. Here, in a handful of exquisite traditional houses featuring beautiful wind towers called barjeel, designed to cool the interior, you'll find shops, museums, art galleries, cafes and boutique hotels. Skip the endless malls and visit the classy Souk Madinat Jumeirah. This modern souk has all the comforts – airconditioning not least among them – but is housed in a village-sized sprawl of traditional wind-towered buildings like those in Bastakia. Relax with locals over lunch at one of the many restaurants and watch young couples boating on miniature waterways threaded around the park-like interior. Shops here offer a more interesting mix of wares, drawing on Arabic artistic heritage.
Dubai's gold souk is worth a visit, while the textile souk near Dubai Creek is a chaotic and colourful maze with some fabulous fabrics hidden among the gaudy tat. But for real bargains, venture out to Al Quoz Industrial Area 1, where you'll find the treasure trove that is the Antique Museum in a featureless warehouse.
Despite its name, this is a giant trading house supplying the local souvenir market, stuffed with Middle Eastern handicrafts, clothing, ceramics, knick-knacks, linen, furniture and everything else you can imagine. Prices are low and fixed, a relief for those who find haggling more stress than it's worth.
Before oil made it super-rich, Dubai was a modest but busy trading port serving the Persian Gulf states. To get a glimpse of that past, visit Dubai Creek. Great wooden dhows, ornately carved and brightly painted, still trade along this expanse of salty river between Deira and Bur Dubai, as they've done for hundreds of years. From the water, the city regains some of that mirage quality and Sheikh Mohammed's vision again takes on a poetic quality.
Pauline Webber travelled to Dubai at her own expense.