Souks you, baby!

It’s known as a playground for the rich and famous but Dubai’s a brilliant destination for families too


Dubai is famous for sun, shopping and skyscrapers but it can also boast some nice ice, baby. No, not snow (though it does have a giant dry ski slope inside one of its malls) but diamonds.

As soon as we touched down in the land of bling, we headed straight for the world-famous gold souks.

Inside the first shop, sunlight glinted off a two-carat solitaire my little boy, Deme, twisted on his finger. ‘Not bad,’ he shrugged. ‘But do you have anything bigger?’

Without blinking, the jeweller handed him a rock the size of a 50p while his colleague draped my toddler Anais in a ruby-encrusted choker with matching bracelet.

Next to him my husband Alexio inspected a Rolex watch inlaid with slabs of emerald and sapphire. It was a ‘bargain’ at just £15,000.

But that was nothing compared to the price of the jewels our children were wearing. And no one – except me – seemed concerned that they might lose, break, or even swallow one of these precious gems.

This was shopping, Dubai-style, where everything that glitters really is gold or something even more expensive. And, right now, my children couldn’t get enough of it.

Back home, I have to drag the family into any store that’s not Toys r Us. Here, they loved strolling around the souks, where you can buy gold chains by the inch, and hitting the malls.

Shopping here isn’t just a Wag’s paradise. It’s a way of life, and, like everything in Dubai, they’ve decided bigger is definitely better.

I watched my little boy’s eyes bulge as we went round the world’s biggest shopping complex, The Dubai Mall, complete with ice rink and aquarium.

New trainers and a glimpse at a turtle was obviously a winner. ‘Cool,’ he said, awe-struck as we hit the next ‘shopping experience centre’- Mall of the Emirates– and the dry ski slopes.

It was funny to think it was boiling outside – Dubai has great weather all year round – while father and son practised their moves on the ice.

For a week we were living the High Life, literally. We were staying in the penthouse suite at the luxurious Le Meridien Mina Seyahi Beach resort and Marina, just down the road from the famous sail-shaped hotel Burj Al Arab on Jumeirah beach.

Along with a marble bathroom, dressing room, kitchen, living room and bedroom bigger than the average two-bed flat back home, we had a jaw-dropping view overlooking the marina.

Below was a golden beach set against a dramatic backdrop of Canary-Wharf style skyscrapers. It’s Manhattan-on-Sea, with the desert thrown in for good measure. On our horizon was the five-star Atlantis resort, where Kylie performed for the £15 million opening party.

Stars flew in from all over the world for the bash, but many of them have luxury holiday homes here.

David Beckham splashed out £8 million on a swanky Palm Jumeirah house for Posh’s parents.

It’s easy to see why it’s a popular place for expats wanting to live the dream and a year-round hot tourist spot for sunlovers.

Every day our little boy kept begging for a doughnut as soon as he woke up. It took me a while to work out he wasn’t demanding a bun for breakfast. He’d spotted the giant rubber rings being towed across the sea in front of us and wanted a go.

‘Faster, faster!’ Deme cried each time as he bounced along the waves of the Arabian sea in the doughnut, being pulled by a boat.

Anais was safe and happy inside the hotel-run kids’ club, which was excellent. But she lapped up the fun when we took her and Deme to the Dubai Dolphinarium, where they watched the seal and dolphin show, and swam with the dolphins.

She giggled as we took her to another family must day-out at the Wild Wadi waterpark. Deme and Alexio shot down slides, chutes and lazed around rivers while us girls got a little bit wet splashing in pools.

Then it was time to get dry – and go shopping again. ‘Do you want to try on more diamonds?’ I asked my son. He grinned. ‘Only if they’re worth more than a million pounds,’ he said. I was sure we could easily find one here – after all Dubai Rocks!

Getting there
Five nights in Dubai with Virgin Holidays, including scheduled flights with Virgin Atlantic from London Heathrow direct to Dubai, accommodation at the 5V Le Meridien Mina Seyahi Beach Resort & Marina on an a breakfast only basis with transfers included starts from £986. Prices are per person based on 2 adults travelling and sharing a standard room, price includes all applicable taxes and fuel surcharges which are subject to change. Prices are based on departures between 14 – 19 Sep 2011.
Virgin Holidays is a member of ABTA and is ATOL protected
To book: www.virginholidays.co.uk , 0844 557 3859 or visit one of our 50 stores located in Debenhams and House of Fraser stores nationwide.
I was lucky enough to go with my family on a press trip but would happily pay to go again!

My (half) naked ambition!

Smiling, I twirled in front of the mirror. The skirt was a perfect fit. Black lace billowed out around me like a mini meringue. Best of all there were no rolls of fat cascading over the waist, and the ballerina style hid my jelly belly under metres of tulle.

'I'll get it,' I thought, triumphant. It wasn't just that it was only £25. In this skirt, I felt smaller than my size 16 without going on a diet or wearing Spanx pants.

But as I slipped out of the skirt, I realised why it was so comfortable. It had an elasticated waist.
I hadn't worn one of those since having my baby two-and-a-half years before. Though thanks to my love of rioja wine and ricotta and spinach cannelloni my bump is now bigger than when I was pregnant.

'Oh well, no one will know,' I thought. 'I'll make sure I wear a top that covers the elasticated waist.' And at least I wouldn't have to worry about my new favourite outfit being too tight after a massive blow out.

So I paid for it and hung it in my wardrobe, ready for its first outing. Less than a week later, I was asked to try out for some freelance work at Sky magazine.

'I need something impressive to wear,' I wailed. Working among so many high-powered men and high-heeled women meant I needed to look smart and steely.

Then I remembered my ballerina skirt. 'That's perfect,' I thought, mentally accessorising it with a black top, giant jewellery and ankle boots.

So I felt super-charged as I marched through the publishing room on my first day, ready to rub (padded) shoulders with media executives. My skirt swished as I strode past the rows of desks towards the Head of Publishing.

I smiled, confident that for once I looked more like a serious journalist than a slummy mummy.
And then – as if in slow motion – I felt a draft and gasped as the elastic in my waistband pinged and my brand new skirt slid to the floor, exposing my giant Bridget Jones-style pants.

My cheeks burned. 'Oh no,' I shrieked as the entire room fell silent and everyone stopped to stare. I wanted to cry, or throw myself out of the nearest window in shame.

But I did what any self-respecting woman standing half-naked in a room full of 50 strangers with her tight gusset hanging out would do. I bent down, picked up my skirt, and gave my biggest grin.

'I'm here about the job,' I said, to a gob-smacked secretary. And do you know what – I got it! I didn't know if it was out of sympathy or because I was game for a laugh, but at least I styled it out. I also learnt a valuable lesson – always carry a safety pin in case I become a fashion disasterista!

My Pet Shame!

His eyes were wide and pleading as he gazed up at me. 'Please can we have a dog?' my eight-year-old son begged. 'I'll take it for walks and let him into my bath.'

I shook my head. 'Not now, love,' I said. 'Me and your dad are too busy.' My son's green eyes filled with tears but he was too brave to cry.

'Maybe later in the year,' I said, knowing I'd put it off then too. It wasn't that I didn't like dogs. I loved them – as long as they were small, fluffy and belonged to someone else.

'Puppies are too much hard work,' I sighed to my husband that night. 'Besides we live in a top floor flat.' What would we do if the dog was suddenly desperate for the loo – put him in the lift with a key fob to let himself in and out of the building? Or bungee-jump him off the balcony?

'He'll just have to wait for a pet,' I decided. 'I don't have the time.'

I was already juggling my son, two-year-old girl, my job and a chef husband. He couldn't help me as he was always run off his feet cooking up a storm.

'Can you pick up some ingredients for me after work?' he asked. 'I want to cook something special tomorrow.'

He'd forgotten to get them and we were expecting eight friends over for dinner the next day.

I scribbled down a long list of what he wanted  - cheese, flour, butter, tarragon, and – eek! - a lobster. I pulled a face.

I'm vegetarian and had never eaten a crustacean. The only thing I wanted in my house that came from a shell was a pearl. Not Larry the lobster who'd have to suffer to make my mates a tasty supper.

'Never mind, it'll be frozen,' I told myself as I drove to the beach front store the next day. 

'I'll just get them to put it in a bag and not think about it.'

So I bounded into the fish shop, eager to get my errand over and done with. 'A lobster please,' I said. 'My husband's ordered it.' 

The man smiled. 'Follow me,' he said, heading towards some water tanks.

Confused, I trailed behind, then froze. There, swimming around blissfully unaware of their fate, were half a dozen live lobsters. 'Pick one,' the shop keeper said.

I swallowed, scared. This wasn't some shopping expedition. I was on lobster death row and had been given the job as judge, jury and executioner. 

How could I choose which ones lived and which one died? 

'The oldest,' I mumbled, horrified. I couldn't kill a baby. 'This one's the biggest.' he said, plunging his hand into the pool and picking up a giant lobster, its pincers already tied.

I shuddered. He was already cuffed, and about to be put to death, ready for my family to scoff. Guilt tore through me.

'I'm so sorry,' I whispered as the man covered the lobster in wet tissue – to keep him alive during the journey!- and handed him to me in a box. 

I was too shocked to speak, so silently paid then carried the lobster, in his cardboard coffin, to my car. 

Carefully, I drove home, avoiding every bump. The lobster's end was going to be bad enough. The least I could do was make his final journey comfortable.

My husband had told me to put the lobster in the fridge, but I'd assumed it would be dead. Now, it was too cruel. So back home, I did what every decent vegetarian would do – and run a bath. Then I placed Larry the lobster in it for his last ever swim.

Just then my husband arrived home with our children. 'Oh look,' my son said, excited, when he spotted me kneeling next to the tub.

I waited for him to talk about how he'd like his supper served – with garlic bread or chips.  Instead he gave me a cuddle. 'Thanks,' he smiled. 'How did you know I wanted a lobster as a pet?' That made both me and his dad very crabby!

Mummy dearest!

Spoil your mum with one of these gorgeous gifts or leave this page open on your screen saver as a giant hint! Gifts clockwise...

The Love Bug Bear £13.50 available at Build-A-Bear Workshops nationwide or www.buildabear.co.uk
Connock London’s Kukui Oil Candle (£36.80, 252g) www.connocklondon.com
Front Cover Cosmetics Rainbow Eyes Reborn £15.75 at Boots nationwide call 0845 070 8090 and www.boots.com
VO5 Heat defence Two-way Rotatable Tong £24.99 available at Tesco online and Boots online
Let's Get Busy Notebook by Mini Moderns £5 www.minimoderns.com
Mad Beauty Rosey Bath Confetti as before
Cream tulip Jewllery Hanger £8.99 from The Range stores nationwide or online www.therange.co.uk
Mad Beauty Glitter Essential Make Up Bag  £4.99  www.madbeauty.com
Godiva chocolates as before

Mum's the word - the ultimate gift guide

Show your mum you care with this fabulous wish list...

Clockwise
POSH Graffiti Mummy Floral sign 5cm £15 www.emilyreadettbayley.com
Dartington perfume bottle £65 www.dartington.co.uk
Sheer Cover eyeshadow and lip pallette – part of an entire set £29.99 www.sheercover.co.uk/beauty
all for eve lipstick in Eve Red £10.50 available www.allforeve.co.uk, Debenhams, John Lewis, Harrods and Harvey Nichols
Rivka gemstone earrings – £38.25 www.qvcuk.com
Elizabeth Arden perfume – part of  Elizabeth Arden Travel Set - 4 x 10ml perfumes RRP £22.50 but £10.60 Dealtastic.co.uk
Mavala nail varnish in 397 Sweet £3.95 available John Lewis and Debenhams
Transformulas Hydration Gold 30ml £55.95 www.transformulas.com or call 08451133888
Chanel Coco Mademoiselle perfume 35ml £55 From www.theperfumeshop.com or The Perfume shop stores nationwide
Spaceform Poppy Love small frame Glass £18 www.spaceform.com 020 7622 2227
Mad Beauty Rosey Bath Confetti  – £3.99  www.madbeauty.com
Godiva Limited Edition Truffles Dessert Collection £24 www.godiva.be or call 0207 734 8113

I'm on a McDiet!

My children were hurtling towards me, their arms outstretched, their blonde curly hair flying.


'Maammmmaaaaaa,' the pair of them screeched, almost knocking me over as they slammed into me.


I laughed, happy they'd waited up as I was working late.


'I couldn't go to bed without giving you a cuddle,' my eight-year-old son said, trying to put his arms around me. They only got as far as round my sides.


I breathed in, while he grappled with my jelly belly. It was no use. Try as he might, his arms just weren't long enough to reach around my rapidly expanding girth. 'Your tummy's fat,' he said, disappointed. 'You'll have to cuddle me instead.'


So I sat down, trying to ignore my fat stomach cascading down. 'Goody,' my two-year-old girl screamed, jumping into my lap. 'A bouncy castle.'


My entire body wobbled as she leapt up and down, giggling. 'Stop that,' my husband chastised her. 'You'll make Mamma sick.'


But it wasn't the sight of my little girl bouncing on my blubber that did that though – it was the sight of my reflection in the bathroom mirror that night.


My once-attractive curves were now buried under layers of spare tyres. My stomach alone could keep an entire fleet of Ice Truckers' super-lorries going for three years without a single puncture.


'I have to lose weight,' I wailed. My wardrobe was crammed with never-worn clothes I'd bought to 'diet into.'


I had every size in there from a size 12 to a 16 – and now they were more than a snug fit.
'No more pasta, pizza or red wine for me,' I vowed. My husband pulled a face. He's a chef, and can whip up a three-course meal easier than I can cremate beans on toast.


'Don't be silly, just go to the gym,' he said. But that would mean showing off my fat in all its Lycra-clad glory. I'd have to go down at least two dress sizes before I could venture anywhere near a cross-trainer.


So I told everyone I was off the booze, fizzy drinks chocolate, crisps, rich creamy sauces, roast potatoes and - my favourite – calorie-laden mozzarella cheese.


'Don't tempt me,' I told the children, ordering them to eat their sweets in their bedrooms or when I was out.


I dug out my trainers – with the label still in tact – and picked up a form to join the gym.


'I'll be a new woman soon,' I announced, reading the lists of classes available. Combat aerobics, kick boxing, Boot camp – things had changed during the decades since I'd done a mum's bums and tums class. 


Getting fit sounded like anger management nowadays. Maybe I could cut the rage along with a double chin.


So on Monday morning I was raring to go. My gym kit was ready – all I had to do was drop the kids off at school.


All the way there I silently chanted as I drove. 'I will not eat junk,' I told myself. 'I will get thin.' By the time I'd finished the school run I couldn't think of anything other than food.


'Be good,' I thought as I neared our house. Then I swerved off the road right into a drive-thru. 'An egg McMuffin, three hash browns and an orange juice,' please I told the tannoy. 'And make it quick. I'm on a McDiet.'

Oscar Winner Colin Firth - enough to make a girl stammer!

Twisting my spaghetti on my fork, I glanced up and froze. 'L-l-l-ook,' I managed to gasp to my friend.


There, sitting just four feet away from us, on the next table, was Colin Firth. Mr Darcy himself! Though today he was wearing jeans and a beige jumper instead of britches and a ruffled shirt.

'OMG!' my friend spluttered, pasta flying everywhere. 'Is it really him?'

This was an intimate Italian restaurant. He was within touching distance. Of course, it was him. I could even smell his classic aftershave. And he was so gorgeous it was enough to make a girl stammer.

Feeling brave, I smiled at Colin. He grinned back. My friend looked as if she was going to burst into tears. 'Stop it,' I hissed, desperate to act as if I lunched with A-list stars all the time.

But she had real tears in her eyes now. 'I love him,' she declared, staring doe-eyed and open mouthed at him. Colin was talking to a director-type, probably about his next movie role.

But I couldn't hear over my friend's sighs, and frantic phone calls telling everyone she'd ever met in a stage whisper: 'I'm sitting next to Colin Firth.'

He tried to pretend he hadn't heard her or noticed every other woman in the restaurant staring. None of them touched their food. They were looking at something far tastier - their tongues lolling out. When my friend got out her mobile to take pictures as he tucked into his ice cream, I knew it was time to leave. 'Bye Colin,' she said, standing over him and waving. He politely nodded while I practically dragged her away.

It was only an hour of gazing at the man who's now won an Oscar for his spell-binding performance in The King's Speech but it was enough.

I now know why researchers recently found 50 per cent of women would happily ditch their other half on to go on a date with a celebrity. Luckily I've never seen Mr Darcy dining nearby since or my hubby would be left home alone!