Back in the Sandpit

After seven official months away, I am finally back in Dubai--for good (hopefully).  Of course, I've been reminded numerous times that I could not have chosen an absolute worse time to return:  July is the smack dab middle of the stifling Middle Eastern summer and just a month shy of Ramadan.  Despite this, I am ecstatic to be back and to finally experience a bit of normalcy again after so many months of vagabonding.

As soon as I arrived at the airport and was met by the Spaniard, we immediately whisked to Ravi's, a former hole-in-the-wall cheap Pakistani secret in the heart of what I call "Real Dubai" that has gained a massive cult following among expats.  I had been craving the greasy, ghee-laden Palak Paneer, Dhal Fry, and hot Roti for months, and once again Ravi's did not disappoint.

Much of the weekend was spent relaxing by the pool, catching up with friends, and of course battling my jet lag.  However, the highlight was yesterday's World Cup Final.  I donned my thick polyester Spanish jersey, emblazoned with a mustard-yellow 9 and Torres (my new football/soccer crush...Cristiano Ronaldo just doesn't do it for me anymore), and watched the match at an empty flat in the building.  Thankfully, the Spaniard was able to continue riding his high with the slightly boring but nevertheless happpy-ending match. 

On another note, I am back on my feet...since getting my cast removed last week, I am now sporting two bulky black walking boots and therefore out of the wheelchair and moving about on crutches.  You wouldn't believe how wonderful it feels to walk again after five months sitting on my bony bum...I am pleasantly surprised that while my legs are still quite scrawny and pathetic, I haven't lost as much strength as expected, and my walking gait is 100 times better than what it was before my surgery.

Anyway, at this point I have pretty much beaten the jet lag bug and am now focused on the biggest challenge of all:  getting a job.  Here we go!