"Hey Sister, sorry about the sun"

A 24 hour stopover in Dubai.
It feels like a fake city, wrapped in heat.
I was staying on the wrong side of the river. I glimpsed the postcard skyscrapers in the distance across the river.
On my side were hundreds of small shops, tailors, corners stores, fabrics, electronics, cell phones, corner shops. And people, mostly men, hanging out. I didn't see any women until the afternoon.
I went for a morning snack in a fancy hotel - a surreal empty ice-rink in the basement. The snack cost almost as much as the night in my cheap hotel.
Getting into the hotel grounds, a group of guys emerged, egging me to climb the gate, rather than walk around. Which I did, because I have no sense. I teetered on top of the spiked gate, wondering if jumping four feet down would hurt my back, and before I decided, one guy reached up, grabbed me under the arms and lifted me down. He probably got more than he bargained for, at midday in the heat, I was less than fresh, and since I've been drinking my body weight daily in cheap champagne, he was the one who probably ended up with a back injury.
The men ignored me or were pretty respectful, and I was cunningly disguised as a foreign nutter, which probably helped.