Guess where I have been? In case you did not see it on my Instagram, TikTok or I didn’t spam you with numerous voice notes about it: I went to Dubai. Again. And if I could, I would have stayed right there – as I am very keen on telling everyone as well. During one of these many conversations I couldn’t help but wonder: Had I become Lisa of Australia?

The Lisa of Australia Phenomenon

Lisa of Australia (also interchangeable with America) is a Germany wide known stereotype used to describe that one girl who went for a study abroad for one semester to Australia and is not shutting up about it ever since, constantly comparing everything back at home with everything in Australia and clearly letting everyone know just how much better it is over there.

It seemed evident: I had become Lisa of Australia – only I was Amelie of Dubai. I hadn’t been able to shut up about that place since I temporarily lived there a couple years ago manoeuvring my way through the hectic and oh so glamorous magazine world, a little younger, a little more naive but still the same dreamer I have always been with nothing but a dream and two oversized suitcases filled with outfits topped off with shoes that would get me questioned if I can really carry the pr packages – spoiler alert: I could. (Because everything a man can do I can do in heels. Minus changing a tire, here the foot wear rule doesn’t apply because no matter with what my feet choose to grace the earth, I would not even know where to find the spare tire – apparently one of them is automatically in every car?).

But I digress.

The Holiday Edit

The Yearning Part

I have fallen into this (hopefully) short, depressive episode that hits you right after you come back from a really beautiful trip that somehow leaves you changed. I had been in a rut way before, uninspired, unmotivated, lacking discipline for anything but a rigorous workout schedule that helped me with nothing but my anxiety – or maybe more? My trousers fit the same but one of my gym friends asked about my now apparently showing “hammies” (that is slang for hamstrings and did you know it’s not only referred to as the muscles in the back of your leg but also inner and outer thigh?) and allegedly I have a semi-functioning mini biceps as well?

Once more I have caught a glimpse of the other side, a side that left me inspired and hopeful and I don’t want to sound dramatic but somehow I feel like it has been taken from me. Since I have been back everything causes me to burst into tears. I went to two spinning classes so far this week and have been crying for 45 minutes each time nonstop. I had friends stay with me the entire time because I am scared to be alone with my thoughts and yearning. People ask me what’s going on as sadness is oozing off of me.

Enough sappy lines written! Let’s reminisce about my time: I spent almost three beautiful weeks in the UAE, two of them staying with one of my best friends at her place, a few days with a friend’s family, both in Dubai and then a couple nights at the beautiful Al Wathba Resort & Spa in Abu Dhabi.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Amelie Klewe (@amelieklewe)

The Run-Through

What did I do? Mostly reconnect with friends, going for late nights drives, early morning walks, filling up my vitamin D and soaking up the city vibes.

I tried go-karting. Someone crashed into me at full speed during the practise lap. I did not take a liking to go-karting.

I went to Kite Beach for sunrise walks. I screamed “You’re all doing amazing!” at a running group of 60 people. They all cheered back.

I had lots of Indian and Arabic food. My tongue almost got a free trip to the ER.

My friend’s car overheated and broke down. We were rescued by a tow truck that conveniently drove by. Don’t tell my mum I got into a stranger’s car in a foreign country yet again.

I tried sea moss gel for the first time – umm yummy?!

I went to a dear friend’s birthday party. She looked stunning, I looked gorgeous, everyone was fabulous and I have no pictures to prove it (no phones allowed) so you have to simply believe me on this one.

I coerced a friend into entering the order war for the viral Dubai chocolate which has been requested by many of my friends back home. I personally tried the pretzel and the dark chocolate one. In the future I will stick to the original.

I tried Jalebi for the first time. Diabetes never tasted so sweet.

Reunited with my husband aka my best friend’s dog. He developed a foot kink.

I attended an Om chanting session. Want to learn Sanskrit now.

I shot a luxury fashion campaign in the desert. My feet got burn blisters and I got a heatstroke.

I forced one of my guy friends to go spinning with me. He has successfully turned into a spinning cult follower.

I spent an entire day at Dubai Mall. Got my 11k steps in. Not my hometown but I know my way around.

So all in all I didn’t really do anything crazy, did I? And yet these three weeks felt like the most reviving time I had in years.

The Semi-Philosophical Bit

I realised that many people have quite a few misconceptions about Dubai and life there, including – but not limited to: “Do only millionaires live there?”, “What can you do other than shopping aka spending money?” and “Are there any schools in Dubai?”. I am trying to think back on what I initially thought about the city before I travelled there for the very first time and how much the media’s portrayal played into that. It is fascinating to know a place so differently form how people see it who have never been there or at least spent a rather significant amount of time in said place and I wonder if I did not have any friends who grew up in the city: Would I hold the same beliefs that I have been confronted with?

I heard that when you feel really strongly about a place, that something or someone is waiting for you there. As soon as my brain registered the meaning of that I couldn’t help but wonder: What is waiting for me in Dubai?

Do you have a place you feel similar about?