Just chill boet

Frostbite. You travel to the Middle East, hoping to avoid the misery that is waiting for the 270 in a bus 'shelter' that would at best shelter a pack of Arctic wolves accustomed to frozen seal meals.

The truth is, there is a Dubai equivalent. It is called Mall Aircon.

These guys are not afraid to turn it all down way into the minuses just as atmospheric temps begin to creep up to the 30's as we leave winter. Hell's teeth - it is 26 degrees outside, let's balance it out with a healthy whack of carbon emissions and get that dial down to prevent any freak Eskimo Pie melting incidents.

I am beginning to wish I hadn't ceremoniously cut my once cream, snakebite-splattered London coat into slices. It had character, that's for sure - with it's flourishing colonies of public transport bacteria species, 1 x size 12 footprint on the back (whether or not I had been wearing it when the boot came down, I will never know) - and it would have come in handy.

Reflections: a month in the desert

I've only been here five weeks in the dunes, and I am already SO over celeb jols. Ahlan! (Dubai's very own Heat magazine) - start sweating BOET - my spottings have been diverse across the sporting, cultural and historically influential spheres - ALL of which have been freeviews (ie. no tickets purchased). In no particular order:

• Mylo (dropping tha pressshhhhaaaa)
• The Big Easy (finished at 17 under the day I saw him at the Desert Classic - you good thing ... Nevertheless, all fell apart for the guy on Sunday)
• Tiger (at least with his pipes cleaned, saffa-style)
• Agent Orange (at numerous venues - close enough to almost touch).

Let's see, in the entire 20 month period of my "London phase", my list of unpaid-for fame viewings is about as impressive as a Tesco cheese sandwich:

• Callum Best (famous for being on Celebrity Love Island - god knows what qualified him as a celebrity in the first place)
• The main guy from Hard-Fi

As much as drawing comparisons between Dubai (the gem of the UAE, the artificial oasis, hub of development and no-holds-barred architectural showing off) and London (the established, traditional, yet cosmopolitan home of the Thames whale) is clearly impossible, some attempt has to be made.

Here is what I miss about London:

• Pigeon tomfoolery. Bless the little entertainers, scrabbling for a crumb whilst you're eating your lunch on a cold metal bench.
• The goons and goonettes
• Kev the mobile hairdresser (just watch he doesn't syphon too much vino before letting RIP with the scissors)

Here is what I faarken don't:

• Cab drivers who practically require your last 3 months' bank statements as proof that you can cover the ride
• Those vitamin D THIEVES they call perpetual clouds