I had never thought of incarceration as something to be coveted before and was puzzled by their exaltation.

But heat is to the Emirates what cold is to Norway. Back home, I could dress up and go out on cold days. In the Emirates, where there are weeks when the temperature does not dip below 40℃ at night, neither the penal code nor the public opinion favours nudity. Thus, only ‘the great indoors’ remains if one wishes to escape the heat.

And the Emiratis treasure their ‘indoors’.

There exists no interior designer alive—male, female or otherwise—who in their wildest, wettest dreams could conjure up designs to match those of the Emiratis. There is no such thing as too much gold; function is optional—form is mandatory.

And money, well, money is no object. And, by the way, could we fit some more diamonds somewhere?

During one of my early years in the Emirates, a public auction was held for vehicle registration numbers. The auction sold license plate number ‘1’ to a local businessman in exchange for a modest 14.3 million USD.

An interview with the new owner stated that he thought the price to be fair because: “… who wouldn’t want to be number one …”. Also, he didn’t intend to put the license plate on a car. Instead, he said, he would frame it and mount it on the wall in his office.

You can’t buy publicity like that, the article stated. But, I think that is not factually correct. You can—and the buyer of license plate number 1 did.

But, even golden toilets need plumbing, and where there are seven-star hotels, there must by necessity be seven-star building demolition services.

And in the Emirates there are!

It is quite possible to be ‘best’ at something without actually being good at it. The key is to find a field that is so narrow as to eliminate competition.

That is why Norwegians have brought the world such accomplishments as the world’s largest sushi mosaic or the world’s fastest backwards skier. These and other achievements of a similar magnitude help us collectively maintain our disproportionate self-esteem as a nation.

In contrast, the Emiratis mean what they say, keep their eyes on the target, and put their considerable amounts of money where their mouths are.

They have results to show for, too. Among them, Burj Khalifa—with its 828 meters, the world’s tallest building.

Norwegians nod in recognition at this. We are much alike, the Emiratis and us. After all, it was Norwegians that gave the world its longest gingerbread train.

At that time, no photo of Dubai existed that did not include Burj al Arab—the tower of the Arabs. That building is a testament to what can only be achieved by vision, leadership, determination, hard work—and cash; lots and lots and lots of cash.

Burj al Arab and many of Dubai’s other developments looked more like advertisements for design software than places where people lived and worked. I got a distinctive feeling of walking around in a 3D-model, but it should be said that it was a nice 3D-model.

The self-righteous and culturally enlightened tourist, a species that in no shape, way or form is endangered, heaps many allegations at Dubai. Chief among these is its lack of ‘authenticity’.

But those who accuse Dubai of being ‘fake’ should take a long hard look in the mirror—and that done, read up on the history of the region.

Authenticity in Dubai would have been mudbrick houses at the high-end, and very simple huts made from palm-fronds at the other.

One would get to experience the authentic joy of having no electricity and historically accurate experience of no air-conditioning. When nigh-time temperatures in summer remain above 40℃, one could wrap one’s authentic self in an authentic blanket dipped in authentic seawater and see how that would taste for authenticity.

Dubai had come a long way in a short time.

I first came there on the eve of the global recession in 2008. The financial optimism that characterized EVERYTHING in Dubai cannot be better summarized than through the advertisements that could be seen everywhere.

Buying a property automatically entered you into a raffle where you could win a private jet—or a private island. It was not clear which was the first and which was the second prize. A Bentley (for the rich) and a BMW (for the poor) came as standard with the garage.