burkini

Hello, I'm back. And, yikes, we've got less than a month left here. I've got the suitcases out at the top of the stairs for a little ad hoc packing over the next few weeks. How do you pack for a month of homelessness in a UK summer? No, I don't know either. I did buy myself a pair of spangly fit-flops in duty free, because I thought they'd be nice and sensible for camping (and the sales lady said they matched my handbag). I managed to resist the urge to buy myself a burkini whilst I was there, although with the shocking amount of flab on my thighs these days, some might say I should have given in to temptation. I did see quite a lot of young women with burkinis at the water park, and the fact that they were completely covered in black lycra didn't seem to stop them having fun. There were also, however, quite a few properly burka'd-up women (who had no doubt still had to pay the extortionate entrance fees, even though their only amusement was sweating it out in the forty degree heat whilst their fat male offspring frolicked, loudly), and I realised that I have no real comprehension of, well, anything. It just seems to me that the rules of female dress in that part of the world are made entirely for the benefit of the men. Maybe I'm missing something. I did read somewhere that for some women its  liberating to be completely covered because you don't then get ogled at (or as you get older, miss getting ogled at, I guess). But I still think, that if those burka'd women at the water park had the choice, they'd be in a swimming costume and screaming their way down the water slides with the rest of us.
We had two days at the water park and two days in the mall, and on the last night we had supper in front of the dancing fountains and watched nighttime Dubai in all its blinging glory. It's such a surreal place, and the total antithesis of Kathmandu. Not sure how long I could survive living there though - it's like the essence of consumerism: people go shopping to buy things to go shopping in - and I'm not sure what else they do. Hubby went for a run and nearly died of heat exhaustion, so I doubt there's much sport going on.
Hubby is sad to be back in Nepal. He misses the gleaming efficiency of Dubai. In fact we all began to miss the first world from the moment we got on the flight back home (mainly because most of the other passengers had yet to master the concept of sitting on a toilet seat - the air hostesses kept having to close the toilets and give them a thorough hose down and disinfectant; still, at least there was no urine running down the aisles this time). However, I'm sad to be back because now we're going through the whole 'last of' experiences. Soon we'll have our last trip to the Sterling Club and our last lunch at Cafe U etc. etc. (won't miss my last near-death experience crossing the main road, though).
Kids seem cheerily unaffected by it all. I think I will be the only person sobbing my way to the airport when we finally head off.
Anyway, must go and take cinnamon rolls out of the oven.