Like sands through the hour glass...

Many years ago, before we were married and before we had kids, Skip and I went on a camping holiday to Fraser Island with some friends. For those of you who don't know, Fraser Island is in Queensland, Australia and is the largest sand island in the world.

On our first night, suffering hideous sunburn and feeling queasy from drinking cheap sparkling in the sun, Skip announced that he really hated sand. For the next few years, this became a bit of a joke in our circle of friends - going to the world's largest sand island for a holiday when you hated sand.

Now, we're living in the desert and I have to confess – I hate sand. At first glance, Dubai looks like a city you don't feel like you're in the desert. Then you only have to drive a short distance and there are rolling sand dunes and there is absolutely no doubt that you're in the desert.

Even in the centre of Dubai you'll find a decent amount of sand – vacant blocks of land, car parks, just walking along the street. I've seen two cars get so bogged in our school car park that they've had to be towed out – up the wheel arches bogged in sand. So the prolific 4WD does come in handy here, even if you don't go out dune bashing.

The thing about the sand is, it's everywhere. I sweep and sweep up mounds (and I mean mounds) of sand every day from our apartment (and we're high up). Every surface gets a light dusting of sand in it. Our balcony ends up with a grimy mixture of sand all over it. After I bath the kids there is a substantial amount of sand left in the tub. I'm constantly emptying my and the kids shoes of sand. And it's different sand to Australia, it's fine almost silt-like sand and it sticks like concrete to your skin.

I spend my life feeling like I just got dumped at Manly beach and every crevice of my world is filled with, yes, sand.

Yes, we live in the desert.