Dubai or not Dubai?

That is the question. Yep, it's Dubai. So, with London behind me I head on to sunny Dubai. Anyone whose never been to the middle east but would like to experience it need only scald themselves repeatedly. Seriously, it was 29 degrees centigrade. Underground. At 4 am.
Got off the plane, got me bags and what not, went as far as customs and then started a cold sweat. Here's why; I'm definitely not stupid enough to try and bring old Mary Jane into the country but I am easily stupid enough to forget a half a dube in a coat pocket and that dawned on me as I started answering a serious of border guard questions. He was cool though and I had nothing on me, although I imagine there'd be a lot said if some of the more *ahem* 'specialist' movies on my hard drive were to find their way into a courtroom. Anyway, went to the arrival hall to seek out Pedro, who viewers of my last blog will remember as the Brazilian with the penchant for mental driving.
So, after a wee while, Pedro found me and we drove through the desert for a looooong time, re-telling our favourite Thailand stories to his pal Marcio (pronounced Mash-ee-oh) although they were as much for ourselves I guess, until we got to Pedro's place. Stunning scenery all the way too. I wouldn't have thought a dessert could look so intresting. There are few sights I've seen that compare with the sun rising over an endless dune sea. An odd beauty in the desolation, if you will. Like a hot chick in a car accident.
Now, I say Pedro has a 'place' but I really mean palace. Every door opens into a room that's bigger than most flats I've ever had. After nearly 40 hours awake, I was jacked so naturally I fell right asleep. After only a few hours of staring at the ceiling. And a couple of Tom Hanks. Natch.
Woke up today, decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and got the eyes back on the prize. Hit the gym with the boys after a wee dip in a swanky spa and went for a slap up feed. Now, I'm ready to flake, so that's just what I'll do.
Night y'all.