Last hurrah: Good luck and goodbye

You can take me out of Dubai but you can't take Dubai out of me.

As the time comes to move on I realise the Dubai chapter will perhaps be one of the most glorious in my life. Dubai gave me in spades. Good and Better.

Baptism of fire

My very first night in Dubai was spent at the airport where I was detained because my first employer ‘forgot' to deposit my visa. The same dodgy employer later paid me less than what was promised – and in instalments. He often sang "I'll cancel your visa and send you home".

For the first three months, I lived in a 10ft x 10ft room I shared with a ‘psycho' who ululated at 2am.

My second employer too was quite fair. At least to fair people.

From getting a driving licence after five attempts to finding good vegetarian food – challenges were aplenty. Yet I call them good experiences because each shaped my personality and sharpened my survival skills.

The bling years

It was grand to live in a city building around me as I did the hard yards between home and work. Dubai gave me a ringside view of history rising – The Palm islands, Burj Dubai etc.

The best of my seven years, however, was saved for last. The last three years, that is. Time that I spent with XPRESS from its gestation to its germination and beyond.