We busy (lazy) folks finally got around to pulling together all the paperwork necessary to get Sophie fully Americanized… actually, it’s not the paperwork that’s such a deterrent, it’s the 1 1/2 hour drive to the US Consulate in Bremen that kept us procrastinating. Sophie, not being a big fan of the car seat, is not someone you necessarily want to spend 3 hours in a car with unless you have a sturdy singing voice and a robust selection of children’s tunes at your fingertips.

With Sophie’s 1-year birthday around the corner, enough was enough. My girl needed a blue passport! But the night before our patriotic sojourn, I realized that I couldn’t locate the passport photos we previously had taken at the local photography studio. So, at the recommendation of a friend, we attempted to recreate our own with the magic of technology.

The following pictoral dialogue should give you a good idea of what one endures when trying to capture a government-approved photo of a baby:

(The last one was so cute, I printed a bunch of copies and handed them out to anyone I thought might like to put a photo of my daughter in their wallet!)

Being a red-blooded California girl, this northern notion of “winter” begins to wear thin after a matter of weeks. I am happy to report that my fine husband has also adopted my summery demeanor, and by the end of January was himself grumbling about Hamburg’s grey skies and copious rain. It was he who suggested a late-February jaunt to Dubai with his brother and sis-in-law, and it took us about a millisecond to mull the idea over and get it booked.

Now, Dubai is currently the undisputed Most Happening Place In The World, and its hotel rates clearly reflect that. If you want a cheap European sun holiday, go to the Canaries or Mallorca. Dubai is for people who crave that buzz… that vibe… that special something that emanates from a young city “on the grow”. Some literary authority has it that an incredibly high percentage of the world’s cranes are currently in Dubai. And, the tallest tower in the world is currently under construction. (Of course, it may soon be trumped by some Saudi prince who posed the idea to build a mile-high tower in the Middle East… what a great idea for a region prone to sandstorms.)

If I had money to burn, without hesitation I’d check in at Dubai’s 7-star Burj Al Arab hotel – Dubai’s most famous landmark - and lounge in their gold-leaf salons before hitting golf balls off the sky-high helicopter pad. Instead, we opted for our old standby – the Chelsea Tower highrise apartments on the citified Sheikh Zayed Road, which seem to require ever more dirham while conversely growing ever more worn around the edges. But, you can’t beat the views of the Burj and the gulf, nor their rooftop swimming pool.

While Dubai strives to imitate the most vibrant of western cities (its traffic certainly is world-class), there are times when you are clearly reminded that this is a Muslim country. First of all, Soenke and his brother Ole were gruffly pulled aside at customs and subjected to a complete luggage and attire search. The poker chips they had packed were immediately confiscated due to their status as a forbidden “gambling game” (so said the confiscation slip). We tried to convince them that the chips were really a special American baby toy, but that didn’t go over. Later, when we were shopping at the glorious Carrefour supermarket, we were startled to find only nonalcoholic wine for sale (although I was comforted by the fact that they did have about 11 different varieties of flavored pistachios available). And finally, at 6am the next morning, I enjoyed being awoken to the Muslim call-to-prayer being blasted on mosque loudspeakers all over the city.

For me, all these were minor setbacks and part of the local color (well, except for the 6am wake-up call).

Now, Dubai with a baby is very different than Dubai as a hip young thing. Evenings are spent lounging about the apartment (not playing poker, evidently) rather than frequenting the many nightclubs topping local skyscrapers. We did, of course, pay homage to the great Mall Of The Emirates (the home of Ski Dubai), where baby clothes were acquired and skiing was undertaken. And the greatest find this trip was surely the casual outdoor Waterfront restaurant at the Jumeirah Beach Hotel, where we enjoyed mahi mahi and the “best mashed potatoes I’ve ever had” (quote from Soenke) while overlooking the hotel’s private marina and – most importantly – the sunset behind the Burj. It was casual, it was cheap, and it was undiscovered.

So I leave you with some photos of our gulf adventure, and hope someone out there is inspired to book a flight:

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Lena and Ole (Soenke’s sis-in-law and brother) loiter in the Frankfurt terminal:

Lounging in the hotel:

Our rental car (where to put the car seat, where to put the car seat…):

The usual action at Mall of the Emirates (that’s “Ski Dubai” in the background…)

Aunt Lena helps feed the princess:

The men hit the indoor slopes:

We weren’t allowed to take pictures in our hotel pool area, so of course I took pictures:

Visiting the ultra-chic Mina a Salam hotel, where Sophie wasn’t allowed in the Bahri Bar (the great sunset drink hangout):

Local garden art:

Ole & Lena and the 7-star Burj Al Arab

Always a smile for mama:

Our dinner view at sunset… not bad!

The Burj changes colors at night:

Back in Frankfurt airport, Sophie teaches Uncle Ole how to read: