The Rugby Team

Hamish Allen has been captain of The Minotaurs since April 2008 when his wife pointed out that he had got a bit fat since they moved to Dubai and should probably take some more exercise.  An ex-military man, the suggestion that he might be ‘letting himself go’ went down badly and as a result he gathered his closest friends and suggested they form a team that could one day play in the Dubai Sevens’ Local Social tournament.  Most of them were keen considering it would give them an excuse to be out of the house one night a week.  They envisioned hearty and bracing exercise followed by pints in the pub.  After a couple of training sessions in which they sweated more than they thought physically possible and a few vomited on the grass, they realised there really wasn’t a pub nearby in which they could turn up looking as they did without the police being called. Hamish’s team numbers dwindled.

This didn’t thwart Hamish though, nor his vice-captain Will, a sinewy and enthusiastic scrum-half who runs marathons for fun in his spare time.  They managed to cobble together a few regulars with tenuous links to the original team and on (most) Monday nights are spotted punishing themselves in Safa Park and trying to avoid a punch-up with a belligerent French team.  Will’s knowledge of French sledging isn’t great but he knows that the word ‘mère’ coupled with some gyrating body movements usually gets the message across.

The Minotaurs have had the odd success, including winning the Bowl in a local tournament.  No one mentions that it was down to a clerical error and the team they should have played was sent home by mistake.  That would just be churlish.  They pride themselves on the fact that they always play with their local line-up and don’t bring in a ringer like their least favourite team Beach Bar Buffoons, who regularly present an ex-under 21 champion at the last minute who just happens to be visiting.  However, most of The Minotaurs really should be playing in the Vets tournament and they are forced to include a chubby guy called Gary on the team as both Hamish and Will are too frightened of his pushy wife to say no.  She often turns up to practice with sandwiches dragging two reluctant children who repeatedly ask why daddy is sitting on the bench.

This year, Hamish is feeling optimistic.  Despite one fractured ankle, a torn cruciate ligament and a wife threatening divorce, he has managed to form a team.  Their group looks manageable; they will clearly be thrashed by the Dubaiboks but the Badger Beaters look giddy and they haven’t even heard of the other team.  Deep down Hamish knows exactly what will happen.  They’ll be so excited to get through to the next round that everyone will get completely hosed that night and their only try will be thwarted at the last minute by their player running headlong into the post.

The Newcomers

It is obvious that Matt and Amy are new to Dubai by virtue of the fact that they are still so damn excited to be here.  And because they sunbathe.  Having done a bit of research on the place, they initially wanted to live in ‘real Dubai’, as Matt said “you know, really get a feel for the culture” and as a result tried their hardest to find an apartment in Old Town.  Sadly it was a bit out of their budget and they opted for a flat in Tecom instead, which boasted it’s own mall (tiny dusty shop specialising in noodles) and a gym (basement room with a flickering fluorescent light and one lonely dumbbell).

Undeterred in their passion for their new home (even when Amy contracted Giardia from the communal pool) they began the task of settling in.  Their desire to immerse themselves in a range of cultures was satisfied as their first month was spent mainly in Ikea and Carrefour with the remainder of the time going up and down the Sheikh Zayed Road.  On one occasion Amy was reduced to hysterical tears when Matt decided to take a short cut in Al Quoz but they vowed never to speak of it again.  They have often talked about visiting the mosque in Jumeirah but never quite managed it, finding themselves instead eating copious amounts of carrot cake in that café just next door.

Matt enjoys his new job and once he worked out that hierarchy was based on nationality rather than job title, he began to feel quite comfortable in the office.  Amy on the other hand has not found a job yet.  She’s telling herself that she’s enjoying her freedom with mornings on the beach and the occasional manicure but deep down she knows that she’s going to have to have a baby soon if she’s going to make any friends of her own.  Matt has told her that the woman she speaks to so frequently at the telephone company trying to sort out their TV and internet doesn’t count.  They have thrown one party: a disastrous mish-mash of Matt’s colleagues, their new neighbours and the cousin of the manager of her parents’ local pub in Woking.  Unfortunately they misjudged the end of the summer.  A group of very sweaty individuals gripping plastic cups of punch stood awkwardly on their balcony, all secretly thinking that they didn’t really want any new friends and wondering when would be the earliest they could leave without appearing rude.  The only one who did stay well past her welcome was the rather loud and chatty lady they met at the pool who Matt and Amy will spend the rest of their years in Dubai trying to avoid.