Considerably better digs…
Over the course of my travel for the Walls book, I slept in a snore-rattled dorm room in Tucson, a dank Belfast hostel, a tent in a desert refugee camp, a Moroccan hotel surrounded by solvent-huffing teens, and a police station in northeast India.
Having paid my accommodation penance, the magazine assignment gods – or ‘goddesses’ in this case – are sending me here:
That’s the place on the right, the Fairmont Dubai. Looks rough.
I remember a time, when I first started traveling in the 1990s, when I would’ve been appalled at the idea of staying in such a ostentatious place. No more. At least not if I don’t have to pay for it.
So if anyone needs me next week, you can find me here, third deck chair from the left:
Dust off the speedo Marchy!