The day of the trip arrived, and everything went smoothly at the Hungarian airport. On the flight, no one sat next to us in the third seat, so the 6-hour journey was quite comfortable. My little son slept for 2 hours.
The Terminal 2 in Dubai was almost empty when we arrived. At passport control, they didn’t ask for my PCR test, and they quickly returned my passport, even putting in a SIM card from the DU provider, which they said I could use during my stay. Later, I found out that it didn’t work.
In October 2021, I started looking for cheap flights to a warm destination, and by mid-November, I found an unbelievably cheap ticket to Dubai. Although I had originally planned my trip for six months later, I thought to myself that this ticket was a gift from God—if it’s this cheap, we have to go now. I immediately messaged my friend who lives in Dubai to ask if she’d be happy to see us in a month. She said yes, so I booked the ticket right away.
While waiting for our luggage, I started to panic, as neither the stroller nor our suitcase had arrived. Almost everyone who was on our flight had already left, when finally our suitcase came. I could immediately see something was wrong—the suitcase handle was broken, and one of the wheels was damaged.
I decided to file a complaint, since the office was just a few steps away. I must say, the staff at the counter was very friendly, and I was assigned to a Filipino woman who took our details and wrote down our issue. We had to wait for about half an hour. I sat down with my little son, who played with his tablet, while I tried to send an SMS to my friend, telling her not to worry—we had arrived.
After they gave us our copy, they told me I needed to file the complaint on the Wizz Air website, attach the report I received at the airport, and include photos of the suitcase.
We left about an hour later, and as soon as we stepped outside, I immediately spotted my friend. It turned out she hadn’t received my SMS, but she had hoped everything was fine with us. It was strange meeting again after 4 years.
When we arrived at my friend’s apartment in Bur Dubai, I could already tell, even at night, that I would most likely be staying in the middle of the Indian Quarter during our holiday. Upon entering the apartment, I first met her husband, who seemed like a really kind person. He had a smiley face and welcomed us warmly.
Meanwhile, my friend received a call from the airport, as I had given her number at the complaint office. They informed her that we had likely left the little tablet behind, and if I went back that night, they would keep it for us; if not, it would be handed in to the lost and found. My friend’s husband suggested it would be better to go the next day, and then their driver would take me.
In the morning, the Indian driver came to pick us up and took us to the airport with my little one so I could get the tablet back. He was kind enough to come all the way to the office with us. There, they asked for my passport, and I had to explain why I was there. The man then searched for something on the computer for a few minutes and took a photo with his phone. I had to identify our tablet from the photo. I recognized it right away and pointed out that it was covered in scratches because of my little one, so we quickly got it back.
Before our trip, I posted again on Couchsurfing, saying that my 3-year-old son and I would be in Dubai for a week, and we’d love to meet someone who could join us during our stay, whether it’s for a coffee or sightseeing.
A few weeks before our arrival, we started chatting with an Egyptian engineer. His company had sent him to Dubai for training. He was the same age as me and a father of two. The other person was a guy from Malaysia, who took the time to write in his first email what would be worth seeing during our stay.
When Aryan, the Malaysian guy, came to meet us, we started talking as if we had known each other for a long time. We decided to go to the beach. I accidentally mentioned that I had previously gone to Kite Beach, which is near “my Burj Al Arab” hotel. I don’t know why I love that hotel so much, but I like it even more than the Burj Khalifa. The guy was so kind that he took us to this beach, and when we parked, I realized that we’d be swimming almost right at the foot of the hotel.
The next day, the Egyptian guy was also in the city, so we planned our first day together as an Abu Dhabi tour, which would have been quite affordable. The bus ticket from Dubai to Abu Dhabi costs only 25 AED, meaning we would have paid around 4,500 HUF for a round-trip ticket.
When we found the bus stop, the sight was shocking—around 100 people were already standing in line under the scorching sun. There was no chance we could get on the bus, but I still hoped they might make an exception for the mom with a stroller. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, and we couldn’t travel to Abu Dhabi. Instead, we visited the beautiful Batuta Mall.
At the metro station, when a bunch of Indian and Pakistani men pushed their way in front of me into the lift, I almost wanted to shout at them. Unfortunately, this situation was a daily occurrence during our stay—there wasn’t a single time when these Asian men would let me into the lift first. Instead, they would push their way in, shoving me aside.
The next day, I went with my friends to the Dubai Frame. From the top of the “frame,” you can look down and see the difference between the old town and the new city. On one side, you can see the simple, grey, low-rise buildings, while on the other side, towering skyscrapers stretch high into the sky.
The next day, I explored the old town with the Malaysian guy. Honestly, it didn’t impress me as much as I had expected. There weren’t any people living there anymore, just a few shops and cafés that clearly catered to tourists.
I explored half of Dubai with the Egyptian guy, visiting the Burj Al Arab again, and we went swimming at Kite Beach. However, the view wasn’t as beautiful as it was four years ago. Cranes were towering around the stunning hotel because, apparently, they had started building more hotels nearby.
The next day, we went to the area where I used to live, which turned out to be quite funny because they had renamed the metro station where I used to live, along with two others nearby. We ended up getting off at the wrong station, but once we realized it wasn’t our stop, we took another one.
As we walked into the towering buildings of Jumeirah Lake Towers, we caught sight of the lake. Back when I lived here, I used to run around the water in the evenings.
Standing there, I found myself face to face with my former home, the Gold Crest View 2 tower. Suddenly, a flood of memories washed over me—the walks along the lakeshore, the morning coffees on the terrace, the vibrant pulse of the city that was once part of my everyday life.
The Egyptian guy was staring in awe at the magnificent buildings. He asked me why I had left Dubai if I had lived in such an amazing place.
It’s interesting how, when people see a beautiful building, they rarely think about what’s behind it—the cost of rent, the salary, or how difficult it can be to make ends meet on a single income anywhere in the world. They only see the “wow” factor, the stunning view, and wonder why anyone would ever leave such a place.
On our last afternoon together, we went to see the Burj Khalifa and the dancing fountains. I knew that was where I would break down. And I did.
As the beautiful Arabic music started playing and the fountains began their mesmerizing dance, tears welled up in my eyes. I didn’t even try to hide them—I just let them flow down my face.
A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside me. Years ago, when I was flying back and forth for interviews, I stood here and prayed that I would one day make it to Dubai. Then, when I finally worked here, I could only visit this place a handful of times because I was always so busy. And now, here I was again, standing in front of the same breathtaking view, holding my little boy—the one who was conceived in Dubai four years earlier.
Listening to the music, I just hugged him tightly and felt nothing but gratitude for having him in my life.
On my last day, I stopped by the Day to Day discount store next door to pick up a few things for myself and some small gifts for my friends. My friend gave me a suitcase—she wouldn’t let me buy a new one.
With my return, a chapter came to a close. Four years earlier, I had left this city with my baby in my belly, and now, I was back with my little boy by my side. I relived so many moments from the past, only to realize that, deep down, I just don’t belong here.
I truly believe that everyone has a place in the world where they “fit.” And now, more than ever, I see clearly that the Middle East is not mine.
My books are about this as well—I recommend them to you!
