This was published 6 years ago
Dubai's real attraction is found on the outskirts of the city
Dubai is known for its flashy malls, hotels and aromatic spice bazaars - but the real attraction is to be found on the outskirts of the city.
By Mark Daffey
Rollercoaster in the sand: dune-bashing in Dubai.Credit: Mark Daffey
Conga lines of Land Cruisers snake through the desert sand dunes just beyond Dubai's city fringe. Hassun, our driver, skilfully slips into position, angling our vehicle towards the crest of a dune. From the rear passenger seat, I can see only sky through our front windscreen. Only seconds earlier, dunes had stretched ahead of us as far the mountains bordering Oman; they now appear to have vanished altogether.
Arriving on the sand dune ridge, Hassun then careens our car down the dune's face. My stomach remains near the peak. I gasp involuntarily while the engine whines in low gear. When we eventually reach the trough, I realise I'm holding my breath.
We tackle the contours of the dunes for an hour before halting atop a dusty plateau. A vividly orange sun – as distinct as any I've seen – sinks towards the horizon, and ever-lengthening shadows stretch across the reddening sand. Beneath us, a dune face etched with linear grooves tumbles to a depth some 30 metres below.
Dubai’s desert is only minutes away from the city’s skyscrapers.Credit: Mark Daffey
"Time for some sand surfing," says Hassun, who's holding what looks like a snowboard under his arm. "Who wants to go first?"
Quickly volunteering, I clip myself in to some rudimentary bindings while listening to Hassun's cursory instructions. I'm ready to hurl myself down the slope. I've got this, I think to myself, having recently torn down an indoor ski slope. This will be my first attempt at sliding down sand. How hard can it be?
As I launch off the crest of the dune, the level of friction between board and sand catches me off-guard and instead of carving a glorious ribbon all the way to the bottom, I catapult over the nose of the board and somersault downhill, creating a mini-sandstorm that billows all around me. "More weight on your back foot," Hassun barks out, laughing.
Exploring the landscape via more traditional transport.Credit: Mark Daffey
After spitting grains of sand from my mouth and dislodging more from my ears in an effort to hear again, I prepare for my second attempt. This time, I distribute my weight towards the rear of the board so I can keep the nose in the air. Before long, I'm hurtling gracelessly at breakneck speed down a giant dune – managing to stay on the board.
After a breathless climb back to the dune's summit, I pass the board to anyone else eager enough to embarrass themselves. Meanwhile, I continue to busy myself removing powder-fine grains of sand from countless bodily orifices. I watch enviously as my fellow travellers carve neat, consistent lines with their boards down the enormous dune.
"Dinner time," announces Hassun. Our sandboarding done, we pile into the Land Cruiser to drive to our final destination: a Bedouin camp that remains concealed in the desert until we're almost upon it.
At the camp – a palm-frond hut laid with rugs and ringed by tents made from woven camel's hair – we're offered camel rides and the opportunity for hooded falcons to perch on our arms. Sweet, aromatic sheesha smoke wafts through the air as we later sit in cushioned circles, dining on grilled meats and salads from a buffet spread. When a curvaceous belly dancer enters the circle with ankle bells jangling and hips wriggling enticingly, I can think of no better end to a night. I've left behind my expat life in Dubai, but I still urge friends visiting the city to book a desert safari, if it's the one thing they do.
Sure, there are Dubai's gold and spice souks, which are unlike anything you'll find back home. There's also the historic Bastakia Quarter, where the buildings date back to the 1890s. It's well worth wandering through – as are some of Dubai's shopping malls, with their oversized aquariums and indoor ski slopes.
Then there's the view from the observation deck inside the world's tallest building, the Burj Khalifa, which will take your breath away; just reserve a ticket well in advance of your visit. But when it comes to world-class attractions, the magnificent desert butting up against Dubai's garish residential estates tops the lot.
During my four years living in Dubai (from 2004 to 2008), I'd often gather together a posse of like-minded enthusiasts to venture out into the desert for some dune-bashing in our four-wheel-drives. Occasionally, we'd camp overnight, lighting a fire and swapping yarns beneath the stars. Whenever we did, we'd feel like we were a million miles from the city and its snarling traffic.
At dawn, the sand would be cool to touch, then appear to rise like a souffle with the sun's warming rays. Fresh lizard and rodent tracks would criss-cross the surface. If we were lucky, we'd see wild gazelles browsing for succulent grass shoots to simultaneously satiate their hunger and quench their thirst. There's no bling out in the desert, none of the ostentatious razzle-dazzle that you'll find inside Dubai's malls or hotels. We'd barely hear a sound. In a town that's well accustomed to shouting for attention, that's no mean feat.