When I wrote my last posting I had thought that it might have been the last of the trip as I did not expect anything of much interest worth writing about to take place in Dubai but as things turned out I do have a bit more to recount. To start with the flight from NZ to Oz was not without incident. It started well with a clear view of the Canterbury plains including the area around Mark's farm but cloud shrouded the whole of the west coast with just the peaks of the alps clear of the clouds. The meal was disappointing - chicken served tepid - and cabin crew offers to heat it up!! One toilet not working so the one just in front of our seats is in constant use and to cap it all the crew has an accident with the trolley which results in a bottle of wine being spilt over Marilyn. They are very apologetic and in an effort to make amends they give M a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne assuring her that there will be no problem at the airport provided it is declared. We land at Sydney and have to leave the aircraft with our hand luggage which now includes the champers but as we go through Security the bottle is confiscated despite the explanation as to how we had come by it. M is not a happy bunny and is near to tears when asked by the receptionist in the Emirates Courtesy lounge if she has had a good flight. I tell her of our problems and she invites me to fill in a complaint form. In the nicest possible way I suggest that she should fill in the form as I had already made my complaint to her. She gets the message and by the time we re board the aircraft the message has reached the new crew who are falling over themselves to make amends. The toilet has still not been fixed though!!

Thursday 27th November. Land in Dubai at 5.30am and can't check into our room at the Tower Rotana Hotel until 10 which is a bore. Try to contact Joanna who works in the UAE without success but I have been e-mailed details of where Dhows are built in Dubai so get a taxi to the spot. As we approach what seems like a derelict area piled high with junk broken fibreglass boat moulds and scrap I can just see one Dhow in course of construction but no obvious road leading to it and the taxi drives on past the area until it comes to some dockyard gates with security guards. The driver asks me if I have a pass or who am I going to see. I try to explain I only want to see some boats being built and eventually the guard waves us in. We drive through the yard past lots of offices stores shipping agents chandlers etc and I am now beginning to wonder how the hell we are going to get back from here if I let the taxi go. Eventually we arrive beside the ship repair area where there are lots of big wooden Dhows chocked up on steel trolleys on railway track. I ask the driver if he can wait for half an hour or so and he says "OK. I go and pray" and switches off the meter. M and I wander off amongst the boats looking so completely out of place in our tourist garb and dangling camera surrounded by overalled Indian workmen in hard hats and ear defenders accompanied by a cacophony of beating hammers. Nobody seems to care so I am able to get a real close look at the shipwrights recaulking, replacing planking and re nailing with dump nails. Take lots of photos. Don't suppose they see too many tourists in here!! Our spiritually refreshed taxi driver meets us and starts the meter again to take us to the old part of town where we can get a water taxi ("abra" 20p fare) across the creek to the area of the town where the spice and gold souks can be found. M manages to be hijacked by a very persistent hustler who leads her off through a maze of passages and up some stairs to a small room (air-conditioned) stacked floor to ceiling with handbags of every known designer label (almost all of which are not known to this pair of old codgers) From under the counter he produces a box of gaudy watches - Rolex of course - but quickly gives up on me when I make it clear to him that I do not wear a watch so he then starts on M. She puts up a good fight and eventually I manage to drag her free from his clutches. Having done the souks beating off the approaches of every front man from every shop we wander along the quay where the cargo dhows are tied alongside and the quay is stacked high with boxes of cargo of every description and we make a booking to go on one of the dhows for an evening cruise around the creek with buffet dinner tomorrow evening.

Friday 28th November. Have nothing planned for today but as I am about to start breakfast I hear the word 'Rugby' mentioned in conversation between a couple of men at the next table. Never one to be shy at coming forward I ask if they are going to the Dubai Sevens and they confirm that they are but one of them says that he may not go and asks if I would like his ticket. Now there's a silly question and I finish up paying £20 for a £35 ticket but I have to find my own way to the ground as his mate is leaving in ten minutes and I have not yet had breakfast. All public transport in Dubai appears to be taxis (apart from the mini coaches that run from hotels to the shopping malls) but they are building a high level railway which is due to be opened in a year or so. I try to bum a ride with some other people outside the hotel who are going to the rugby without success so have to take a taxi on b my own thinking it will only be a fiver or so. Three quarters of an hour later we are still burning up the motorway across the desolate arid desert and the meter is reading £25. Finally we arrive at the stadium built in the desert with nothing else in sight. The stands are built with scaffolding. No seats but the boards are covered with plastic 'grass' for sitting on. The pitch is immaculate - like green as can be velvet and there are four 'outside' pitches for the junior games. The programme of games goes on until 8.00pm so I am not able to stay for all the games but do manage to see all the major countries play at least one game. I do manage to share a taxi for the return trip into town in the company of a well oiled Glaswegian who is convinced that we are being given the run around by the driver and is very forthright in making his convictions known to the driver. Very entertaining. The evening trip on the Dhow was fun and we had a good view of floodlit QE2 recently arrived in Dubai where she is going to be converted to a floating hotel/appartments. The mini-bus ride back to the hotel at the end of the evening was a thrill a minute with M's knuckles a ghostly white and feet hard on the brakes all the way.

Saturday 29th November. Flight home is without incident but I suspect that word has reached the crew that we are a crusty pair of codgers as we seem to be singled out for attention and I have had an e-mail from Emirates in London to tell me that they have heard our complaint in Australia and are looking into it.. We have a very helpful and thoughtful driver of the courtesy car who drives us home and so ends the Codgers Perambulations. A fantastic trip. I hope dear readers that you have found something to amuse. I doubt if I would have had the will power to keep up the blog without your feed back in the comments. Many thanks to you all. You are of course welcome to view the gallery of photos that has accumulated. Guaranteed cure for all insomniacs. Adieu Hackers.