At 111° Dubai is the hottest place I’ve ever been. It’s so hot, the forecast calls for sand. Even the tap water runs hot. In my first visit to the bathroom, I was surprised by the steaming water in the toilet bowl.  It was not a sensation I was expecting, so I looked around thinking I might have accidently pressed a button with benefits, like on a fancy Japanese toilet.

We waited until the relative cool of the evening for a desert safari. Dune bashing is a thrilling roller coaster that makes Frasier Island look like a kiddy ride. We were in the lead vehicle with seven other land cruisers chasing us over the dunes. It was like a Jason Borne movie. We arrived on set to a bedouin camp with camels, falcons, sand surfing and dune buggies.

Camels are a lot taller than you think, and standing up jilts you forward at a 45° pitch. There’s no graceful way to do it. If this were a movie, we just switched from action to comedy.* At the climax of the evening’s entertainment, all eyes were on the enchanting belly dancer.  Meanwhile, I was still sweating so much my newly applied henna tattoo melted into a smudged mess.

To cool off, we spent the following day at a huge water park. For five hours we climbed Neptune’s Tower to slide down water rides, each launching off a different floor. “They’re screaming on this level, so you know it’s going to be good,” is how 10-year-old boys choose the next ride. Conservative Muslim girls cover themselves head to toe in swimming costumes, like secrete ninja chicks.

Jens won’t admit it, but he’s a little afraid of heights. I could tell he was nervous because the more stairs we climbed, the chattier he would get. He even told me he loved me, right before the floor dropped us into a 60 kilometer per hour vertical shoot. It’s not that I doubt his love – it’s just that he isn’t normally one to publically declare his love in front of teenage ride operators and a hundred other strangers.

In exploring the old port city, the spice suks were less Moroccan dream than sweaty alleyways. Young men would approach and whisper, “handbags: Prada, Louis Vuitton...” When I compared stories with Jens later that night, he said they whispered to him, “watches: Rolex, Breitling…”

Dubai is like a cleaner, more modern version of Las Vegas. Only without the drinking, gambling or strip clubs. OK, maybe not so much like Vegas, and more like Disney. It’s proud to have the tallest, fastest, and flashiest to attract tourists from all over the eastern hemisphere.

We were all a little in love with the tallest building in the world.  It’s literally dazzling.  We wanted to visit the equally stunning Burj Al Arab hotel, but were denied entry in our sweaty casual wear. Like a mirage, it was beautiful, desirable and just out of reach

‘* If this blog is ever made into a movie, I think the role of Leela should be played by Jennifer Garner.