Skip Dubai’s skyscrapers and discover a wild, ancient paradise

You’ll have the opportunity to spot Arabian oryx between the sand dunes - Getty

The one place I said I would never visit was Dubai. Its reputation as a playground for the rich and famous (and social media types aspiring to both) might appeal to some, but as the sort of traveller who prefers to be ensconced in history and nature, I had long written it off as simply “not for me”.

But lately I’ve been reassessing some of my assumptions – and as I’d given the likes of spin class (dedicated convert), Breaking Bad (bored) and Miami (too gauche) a second chance, I reasoned that Dubai deserved a fair shake too. I booked my flights, and headed east to see what – if anything – the city had to offer beyond glitz and glamour.

Just 24 hours later, I was already eating my words (or would have been, had I not been quite so dehydrated). I was hiking high into the Hajar Mountains to the base of the Hatta sign – a 63ft tall Hollywood sign-style landmark set at an elevation of 1,476ft – and despite the oppressive heat, I had to admit I was in my element.

The Hatta sign in the Hajar Mountains is 63ft tall

I was nearing the summit – occasionally spotting wild donkeys and mountain goats between the charred limestone – when my guide David, a Brummie who’s lived in the UAE for 10 years, got a phone call: an Emirati VVIP’s “people”, informing him they’ll be dropping into Hatta Resort, an eco-adventure park 55 miles south-east of the city centre, later that week, and are keen to secure David – the site’s managing director – as a personal guide.

This particular VVIP is a regular: Dubai’s magnificent natural surrounds might be little known to foreign tourists like me, but for those who live here, it turns out they’re anything but.

Arabia of old

Al Seef historic district has traditional Arabic architecture - iStockphoto

Determined to experience pre-oil-boom Dubai, I’d checked in to Al Seef Heritage Hotel in Dubai Creek, a historic trading port that still re-exports textiles and food by wooden dhows. The hotel’s 22 buildings are dotted between neo-historic souks, with guest rooms modelled after traditional Emirati houses (mud-textured walls, coral-stone facades). They’re pretty good replicas too, particularly against a backdrop of market traders selling saffron, cumin and cinnamon.

Al Seef Heritage Hotel in Dubai Creek has 22 buildings with guest rooms modelled after traditional Emirati houses - Alamy

My first taste of authentic Dubai came at Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding in the Al Fahidi Historical Neighbourhood. The centre, which opened in 1998, sits in a former 19th-century home and offers tours of Old Dubai and mosque visits led by Emirati volunteers. I opted for the cultural brunch where I met Shaima, who explained the local traditions and customs of the Emirati community – one which now makes up roughly 10 per cent of the city’s population.

Wearing a pastel Abaya (a long, loose-fitting dress), she told me about traditional Arabic coffee rituals: the dallah (coffee pot) is held in the left hand, the right serving the finjaans (handleless cups). “It won’t wake you up,” she joked, pouring me a cup of lightly roasted beans with cardamom, alongside a customary portion of dates, and chatting about being a modern Emirati woman, her faith and master’s degree in engineering.

The Al Fahidi Historical Neighbourhood in old Dubai - Moment RF

Into the wild

Next on my culture crusade: the desert proper. Driving towards the Dubai Desert Conservation Reserve, I passed the Camel Racing Club and a lonely McDonald’s drive-through. It felt like moving back in time, to an era not quite pre-skyscrapers, but certainly before the words “digital” and “nomad” took on such significance here, when old and new Dubai were still adjusting to their juxtaposition.

Writer Jessica Philips (second from the right) at Dubai Desert Conservation Reserve

“Welcome to the middle of nowhere,” the tour guide announced at the entrance of the conservation area. He was only slightly exaggerating. In the 87 sq mile reserve, camels outnumber humans 2:1, and snakes and scorpions decide when it’s time for you to leave. It didn’t take long for me to realise that, against 50C heat, my water bottle and headscarf were about as useful as champagne and a space helmet.

Nevertheless, I hopped into the backseat of an open-top Land Rover (named Warren) that took me deeper into the wilderness. I spotted Arabian oryx and gazelles between the sand dunes, and learned about the UAE’s nomadic tribes from driver Tim – Filipino, but with a South African twang picked up from his expat friends. This blurring of cultures was something I noticed more and more as we entered a replica Bedouin camp; Indian and Ugandan staff adopting each other’s -isms in a way I’ve rarely seen outside of London.

Bedouin men cook arbood, a dense, chewy bread made from flour, at the camp

Most of the camp’s staff came from the local Bedouin community. Historically denied citizenship because of their nomadic lifestyles, they’re able to earn a living here while keeping ancient customs alive. Traditional Western gender roles are turned on their heads, too: men cook arbood, a dense, chewy bread made from flour, water and salt, while the women perform yowlah, a traditional war dance that involves spinning rifles to the beat of drums (a far cry from belly dancing – imported to the UAE from Egypt and Lebanon in the 20th century).

The highlight of my trip, though, was its simplest moment. At dusk, the distractions of noise and air pollution were taken away, and I lay down under the Arabian sky for an astronomy lesson. I spotted the constellations of Pegasus and Piscis and the rings of Saturn – some of the city’s greatest assets; high rises of a very different stripe.

I’d always imagined Dubai as a monolith of excess. And yes, this is a place where more is more – but it’s also where ordinary Emiratis exist without fanfare, where gender norms and cultures aren’t always what you expect, and where a new patchwork culture is emerging from the desert’s melting pot.

Dedicated convert? The skyscrapers still aren’t for me – but Dubai’s markets and mountains are a different story.

Essentials

Jessica was a guest of Visit Dubai. Emirates flies several times a day from Heathrow to Dubai, with returns from £552.

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