
More than stars, a desert night to remember in Al Qua'a
The trip began with a drive that felt like part of the adventure itself. Leaving Dubai behind, we wound through highways that soon melted into open desert roads, dunes rising up on either side. The fading sun painted the sand in golden and rose hues, turning the journey into something cinematic. By the time we reached Al Qua'a, the horizon stretched endlessly, vast and breathtaking. The setting
Even without a canopy of stars, the desert setting was unforgettable. Golden dunes rolled on in every direction, silent and serene. A crisp breeze carried with it a sense of calm you don't often find in city life. Standing there, you felt dwarfed by nature's scale, the kind of perspective only the desert can give. The activities
From the moment we arrived, it was clear this wasn't just about stargazing. First came sandboarding, a thrill that had us racing and tumbling down slopes of soft sand, laughter echoing across the dunes. It's important to note that we went on this adventure during one of the hottest weekends in the UAE, yes, crazy, but well worth it. As twilight deepened, we gathered around a fire, playing games and sharing stories, a group of strangers quickly feeling like old friends. From Portuguese to Spanish, British English to Urdu, the circle felt like a little United Nations in Al Qua'a as people bonded and showed off their competitive side. Dinner was a hearty barbecue feast of meats like beef, chicken and some local gems like tabbouleh. Plates filled with grilled meats, fresh salads, and warm bread were devoured under the night sky which was filled with stars, until they got shy and went into hiding. An astronomer's talk rounded out the evening, guiding us through constellations we couldn't quite see but could vividly imagine, blending science with mythology in a way that brought the cosmos alive. The host
At the heart of it all was our host, Rizwan Ali. Charismatic, attentive, and endlessly knowledgeable, he kept the group engaged and comfortable. His ability to transform what could have been a disappointment into an evening full of joy speaks volumes. The experience
Yes, we saw some stars, but not nearly as many as we'd hoped. Who would have known that you can't order stars around and ask them to appear, but that's the beauty of this experience – you know never know what to expect. The desert gave us so much more: the rush of sandboarding, the warmth of a fire under the night sky, the delicious taste of barbecue, and the camaraderie of shared adventure. In the end, the stargazing trip turned out to be about more than stars, it was about connection, nature, and the unexpected magic of the desert.
Stargazing or not, Arabian Wanderers delivers an adventure worth taking. For anyone craving something different, this is a night out in the desert you won't forget.
Images: Supplied
> Sign up for FREE to get exclusive updates that you are interested in
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Gulf Today
a day ago
- Gulf Today
Like Prince Harry, I've been lobster-shamed
The big reveal in the new trailer for Netflix's With Love, Meghan — the second season of the Duchess of Sussex's cookery and lifestyle show — is that Prince Harry won't touch lobster. In the clip, Meghan is seen preparing a seafood dish, in the rented California house close to her and Harry's Montecito mansion where the TV series is filmed, when she casually mentions to José Andrés, a celebrity Spanish-American chef, and says: 'You know who doesn't like lobster?' 'Who?' says Andrés. 'My husband,' Meghan says, dropping the news like a bombshell — or a helpless crustacean into a pan of boiling water. 'And you married him?' the chef retorts, while Meghan falls about laughing. But don't worry, Harry, you're not alone. I, too, have been shamed for not eating lobster. Last week, during a Greek getaway, I was invited to dinner at a fancy beach restaurant in Zakynthos when a huge specimen was brought out of the tank to our seafront table, the waiter presumably thinking he'd spare us the trouble of walking to pick one ourselves. But he made a terrible faux pas. As it tried to move its legs and claws, which had been bound tightly, my kids screamed. Our meal quickly descended into a horror show with floods of tears. As diners at nearby tables turned around to watch, I could tell they thought my children were just badly behaved. I tried to calm the kids down as the waiter retreated, sending the lobster back to the tank. My friend had wanted to order lobster for us all as a treat, but the whole episode only left a bad taste. I'd always thought that lobsters screamed when they were boiled, which was also off-putting. However, the reality is far worse. They suffer in silence. That shrill, high-pitched sound you hear if you're close enough to the kitchen — often mistaken for a scream — is steam escaping through pores in the shell as the organs boil. But this was not the first time I've been looked down on for not eating lobster. I always feel embarrassed when I say 'No, thanks' — lobster-shamed, you could say. When I politely refuse, other diners assume I'm just a picky eater — but I'm doing it on principle. My local fish shop in Notting Hill sells 'Live Scottish Native Lobster' from £59, which you can take home alive, to do whatever the hell you like with, no questions asked. It's barbaric. According to a 2023 YouGov poll, 61 per cent of the British public think it is unacceptable to cook decapod crustaceans, such as crabs and lobsters, by boiling them while they are still alive. For Harry, it's unclear whether his aversion to lobster is on moral grounds, or — more likely — a long-accepted family tradition: the royals usually steer clear of shellfish to avoid the possibility of food poisoning. But it's not a hard and fast rule. Former royal chef Darren McGrady offered confirmation that the royals 'do actually eat shellfish' when he shared on social media a royal menu from a 1989 banquet at Windsor Castle that shows that the late Queen dined on soufflé de homard, for starters Whatever Harry's reasons for not eating lobster — and, as a friend of Sir David Attenborough, he will doubtless be aware of it being a cruel culinary practice — he shouldn't be made to feel like a misfit. In countries like Switzerland, Norway, and New Zealand, it is illegal to boil lobsters without stunning them first, usually either by an electrical shock or by chilling them in cold air or an ice slurry to minimise suffering. In the UK, lobsters and other decapod crustaceans are now recognised as sentient beings, under the Animal Welfare (Sentience) Act 2022. The law was introduced after a report by the LSE found compelling scientific evidence of the levels of pain and distress these creatures can experience. Yet, somehow, boiling them alive remains legal. It's a cruelty we can no longer ignore — and we should thank Meghan for inadvertently drawing our attention to it. If one good thing comes out of her Netflix series, let it be that she has given poor crustaceans a voice.


What's On
2 days ago
- What's On
More than stars, a desert night to remember in Al Qua'a
There are nights in the desert when the stars put on a dazzling display, glittering like diamonds scattered across the sky. Our evening with Arabian Wanderers in Al Qua'a desert wasn't quite like that. The stars were shy, peeking out only occasionally through the hazy clouds. But here's the twist: the lack of a sparkling sky didn't take away from the magic of the experience. If anything, it made every other element shine brighter. The journey The trip began with a drive that felt like part of the adventure itself. Leaving Dubai behind, we wound through highways that soon melted into open desert roads, dunes rising up on either side. The fading sun painted the sand in golden and rose hues, turning the journey into something cinematic. By the time we reached Al Qua'a, the horizon stretched endlessly, vast and breathtaking. The setting Even without a canopy of stars, the desert setting was unforgettable. Golden dunes rolled on in every direction, silent and serene. A crisp breeze carried with it a sense of calm you don't often find in city life. Standing there, you felt dwarfed by nature's scale, the kind of perspective only the desert can give. The activities From the moment we arrived, it was clear this wasn't just about stargazing. First came sandboarding, a thrill that had us racing and tumbling down slopes of soft sand, laughter echoing across the dunes. It's important to note that we went on this adventure during one of the hottest weekends in the UAE, yes, crazy, but well worth it. As twilight deepened, we gathered around a fire, playing games and sharing stories, a group of strangers quickly feeling like old friends. From Portuguese to Spanish, British English to Urdu, the circle felt like a little United Nations in Al Qua'a as people bonded and showed off their competitive side. Dinner was a hearty barbecue feast of meats like beef, chicken and some local gems like tabbouleh. Plates filled with grilled meats, fresh salads, and warm bread were devoured under the night sky which was filled with stars, until they got shy and went into hiding. An astronomer's talk rounded out the evening, guiding us through constellations we couldn't quite see but could vividly imagine, blending science with mythology in a way that brought the cosmos alive. The host At the heart of it all was our host, Rizwan Ali. Charismatic, attentive, and endlessly knowledgeable, he kept the group engaged and comfortable. His ability to transform what could have been a disappointment into an evening full of joy speaks volumes. The experience Yes, we saw some stars, but not nearly as many as we'd hoped. Who would have known that you can't order stars around and ask them to appear, but that's the beauty of this experience – you know never know what to expect. The desert gave us so much more: the rush of sandboarding, the warmth of a fire under the night sky, the delicious taste of barbecue, and the camaraderie of shared adventure. In the end, the stargazing trip turned out to be about more than stars, it was about connection, nature, and the unexpected magic of the desert. Stargazing or not, Arabian Wanderers delivers an adventure worth taking. For anyone craving something different, this is a night out in the desert you won't forget. Images: Supplied > Sign up for FREE to get exclusive updates that you are interested in


Gulf Today
13-08-2025
- Gulf Today
Erum Durrani's art lives between two worlds but has one identity
Erum Durrani is a visual designer working in art and design since 2009. Hailing from Pakistan and based in Abu Dhabi, by day, she's a digital designer — juggling graphic and web projects using Adobe Creative Suite, crafting seamless UX flows in Figma, and also experimenting with Generative AI. But when she's off the 9 to 5 clock, you'll find her sketching vibrant digital illustrations or getting hands-on with oil, acrylic, and watercolour — always chasing the next spark of inspiration. From pixels to paint, she says, her creative journey has always been about storytelling. As a digital artist, concept designer and visual storyteller, she has spent years crafting immersive narratives — whether through carefully designed branding elements, attractive marketing visuals, or conceptual artworks that explore new perspectives. Erum Durrani speaks to Gulf Today Has it been easy for you to work both in the commercial and aesthetic sides of art? Embracing both the commercial and aesthetic sides of art has been one of my richest creative challenges. At first glance, they may feel like opposite ends of a spectrum — one driven by client goals and timelines, and the other by personal exploration and emotional release. But I've found they actually fuel and balance each other beautifully. In my commercial work, I partner closely with clients to understand their brand values, audience needs, and project objectives. The Coast of Cyprus, as Erum Durrani saw it. On the other hand, outside of client briefs, my studio practice is an unrestricted playground. There I let intuition guide me, experimenting with colour, form and narrative, just for the joy of creating. Moving between these worlds keeps my vision fresh. Techniques I discover in personal work often spark innovative concepts I pitch to clients, while the structure of professional assignments ensures my creative experiments stay grounded and goal-oriented. What inspires your artworks? Life, in all its messy, beautiful glory, is what fuels my art. I'm endlessly curious about the world around me — every flower petal, every passing shadow on a building, the way a single colour can shift your mood ... I pay attention to the little moments: a snippet of conversation on the street, the texture of an old door, the way sunlight hits a glass window. Some days it's the rhythm of Urdu poetry echoing in my mind; other days, it's the hum of city traffic or the scent of jasmine blooming outside my window. All these tiny details weave themselves into the stories I tell on canvas. A native scene in digital illustration. Who are your favourite artists? Why? I've always been drawn to artists who bring big ideas to life in unexpected ways, and Milton Glaser was my first 'aha' moment. Back in design school, I stumbled on his work and was blown away by how bold and colourful everything felt; yet each piece carried a clear message. It taught me that design doesn't have to play it safe — there's room for flair and storytelling even in the simplest shapes and letters. A few years later, as I dove into concept art, Feng Zhu became my go-to inspiration. His environment designs are insanely detailed and immersive, like you could step right into his worlds. Composition titled Shades That Define Us. Watching him break down projects made me rethink how I approach space and atmosphere in my own work, whether I'm sketching a futuristic cityscape or imagining a lush forest scene. When I shifted from screens to canvas, Igor Saharov's fearless painting style really resonated. His pieces feel alive — textures pop, colours glow, and everything looks almost three-dimensional. Seeing that level of confidence on canvas encouraged me to take more risks. Together, these three artists have shaped how I see form, colour and narrative in everything I create. What are the challenges you have faced as an artist? Balancing client deadlines with my personal studio practice has been a real workout for my time-management muscles. Commercial briefs come with strict milestones — presentation decks due Tuesday, revisions by Friday — while my heart craves for those unhurried mornings where I can lose myself in a watercolour experiment. To sync these two worlds, I carve out dedicated 'experiment hours' in my calendar, often early on Saturday or Sunday. This ensures I'm still meeting commitments at work, while giving my free-spirited projects the space they need to blossom. Can you compare and contrast the Pakistani art scene and the Emirates art ecology? Although there are clear differences between the art scenes in Pakistan and the Emirates, they also share overlaps rooted in culture. In Pakistan, art often blooms out of grassroots energy — street murals, miniature painting traditions, calligraphy and the riotous colours of truck art that spill into public life without waiting for white-walled galleries. Local craftspeople and self-taught painters keep long-standing motifs alive, even when formal funding or institutional support is scarce. By contrast, the Emirates has built an art ecology that's institution-forward and globally connected. Erum Durrani is based in Abu Dhabi. You'll find flagship museums like Louvre Abu Dhabi, annual fairs such as Art Dubai and government-backed foundations curating major shows. Galleries in Alserkal Avenue and across Dubai Design District bring international stars next to emerging local talents. There's a professional infrastructure — grants, residencies, art-fair circuits — that fuels ambitious projects and large-scale public installations. Despite these contrasts, both worlds celebrate pattern, ritual and hospitality. Pakistani artists are reviving floral and geometric motifs passed down through generations, while Emirati creatives riff on Arabic calligraphy and desert landscapes. But in both places, art is a way to honour where we come from and where we're headed.