It may surprise you to hear that there are many things that Australia shares with the United Arab Emirates – long summers, clear blue skies, and a love of cricket. But even though we all worship the sun, there’s only so much heat we Aussies can bear, writes Geoff Lawson.
August and September were very busy months for me coaching cricket in two very different parts of the world. In August I was on the Sunshine Coast with the junior Afghanistan team, and enjoying the most delightful weather. Coolish in the evenings, so easy to sleep, maybe curled up with a single blanket, maybe not.
It is difficult to recall seeing a single cloud in that four week period, just perfect bluer than blue skies. When visiting Brisbane it was almost impossible to reconcile the volume of water and the flood levels of 18 months previous that had wrecked the CBD as the earth cracked and the lawns browned. The humidity in late winter is low and the temperature peaked at 28. The coolest day was 18 with little breeze.
I even took to the surf with my charges in a few ‘recovery’ sessions. I bravely lead the way ‘sans wetsuit’ to demonstrate to the young Afghans that the water was fine, there were no sharks (fingers crossed) and that Aussies hit the waves no matter what time of the year.
The success we’re having with trachoma in the Northern Territory… is real validation that what we’re doing works
I was pleasantly surprised by the clear and bracing, but bearable waters, which did not require a wetsuit. The locals, of course, thought the water was freezing and all of them were polyprened to the gills… soft Queenslanders!! Once the visitors overcame the initial wariness of temperature and white water, and were reassured that the yellow and red flags encased an area of safety rather than a suspected landmine location (as they do in Afghanistan) I couldn’t get them out
of the surf.
The beaches are patrolled by lifesavers 12 months of the year. I suggested to the locals that as a result of having such perfect weather in winter, the corollary is obvious – in summer it gets much too hot and humid to be outdoors. I could only surmise that the skin cancer rates were through the roof owing to the massive amount of sunshine that falls in the Sunshine state. The response drew only a frisson of indignation as I was told that the sea breezes during summer kept the climate warm but manageable, hats were compulsory, sunblock obligatory and sweaters unnecessary. This indeed was “perfect one day, paradise the next” as the marketers proposed… and I found out you can get sunburnt in winter.
An Arabian Summer
In September I continued with the Afghans but this time graduated to the national team in the fulltime summer climate of Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates (UAE).
Sharjah is an emirate that borders Dubai on one side and Oman on the east and north – the main urban area is really a suburb of Dubai, to the east is desert for 150km or so until you hit the coast bordering the Sea of Oman.
They say the three worst things about Dubai are June, July and August. The temperatures can reach into the 50s and August can be humid as the monsoons of south-west Asia flip their tails a little south towards the desert kingdoms. It is such an oppressive climate that huge shopping malls have a full ‘Sale Month’ to get the tourists out of the furnace and into the air conditioning. More importantly, the green fees at the well-heeled resort golf courses are reduced to half price and getting a tee time is no problem as long as you are prepared for potential sunstroke, debilitating dehydration, and golf sticks that can give your hands second degree burns if you pick them up by the shaft (I know this from personal experience). It is wise to be fully provisioned and watered just in case your golf cart breaks down out around the fifteenth.
Cricket games start at 6pm and finish around 2am to avoid the worst of the heat and the shops and souqs (markets) generally close down between 1pm and 4pm so everyone can have a siesta (yes I know that is Spanish but they don’t have a special term for it in Arabic) and go to the mosque a couple of times without having to worry about work.
Like south-east Queensland in August
I didn’t see a single cloud during the two weeks I was in the UAE – well that is not exactly correct… there were a few dust clouds around and the horizon seemed permanently in a haze from the sand
and dust.
Desert and City Collide
The modern city of Dubai, joined at the hip with Sharjah city, is fast becoming a vast metropolis. The desert is still lapping at the fringes but the concrete, stainless steel and glass are winning the battle, for the moment at least. Camels still wander where the desert meets the suburbs, much like you would find kangaroos in outer suburbs of our country towns. In Australia we only have “Beware Camel Crossing” signs out in the central desert, in Dubai they stroll next to eight lane freeways.
The waters of the Arabian Gulf are tepid and flat. There are no waves to surf off Jumeira beach apart from those created by a sheik’s power launch and you can’t stay in for long as it’s like sitting in a cup of tea that has been waiting for the milk and sugar – there’s nothing refreshing about it. Laze around long enough (don’t touch the sand as it is hotter than the golf shafts) and you may catch a glimpse of Warney and Liz (‘Elizabeth’ to most) as they jog their thinning thighs along the burning beachfront.
The shifting sands of TE Lawrence’s Arabia present a daunting and fascinating place, but even so, it is hard to imagine continuous life out there, perhaps just as it is for urban Australians to picture themselves living and working in the outback of Australia.
Our Aussie climate can be tourist perfect – that’s probably why 85 per cent of us live on the coast, and why so many Victorians now live in Maroochydore. It’s not the worst idea they have had down south. Somehow I can’t see a lot of Australians emigrating to the oases and date palm plantations of the Arabian Peninsula – even though they do play cricket… it’s just way too hot.
