Dubai: Bird in the sand

I should confess that I went to Dubai prepared to dislike the place. I had imagined a soulless desert; not in the sense of austere, sandy dunes, but in terms of endless gruesome shopping malls flogging designer rubbish. And Ski Dubai, the snow dome that churns out artificial snow in Middle Eastern heat: how mad is that? It's true that those who want to shop till they drop have no shortage of opportunities here; there's a mall on every corner and, when I visited, the 45-day Dubai Shopping Festival was in full swing. The hotels, built from scratch with space no object, are on the scale of cathedrals. You can get thoroughly lost wandering between different wings and levels.

But it was in the bar of one of these behemoths that I was introduced to Hamad Ghanem Shaheen Al Ghanem, sipping mint tea with his hookah at his elbow. I was interested in learning about traditional falconry, and Hamad's magnificent saker falcon, Rabab (Cloud) was perched on the table next to him. Disdainfully indifferent to the hum and bustle around her, she occasionally smoothed her speckled breast feathers with a ferociously taloned foot. "Don't touch her," warned Hamad. "She is a hunter, not just for show." I wasn't tempted; even though Rabab's tasselled leather hood kept her calm, her beak was sharply hooked. A striking falcon can take the head clean off its victim with those vicious talons, and it's easy to see how when you meet one of these elegant hunters close up.

Hamad breeds both falcons and salukis, the traditional Arabian sight-hounds, swift and agile. He stages demonstrations and competitions, and also organises hunts with falcons and dogs, using horses or camels, depending on the terrain. Horses do better in wadis (dry river beds) and camels can cope with heavy sand. The birds travel to the hunting areas with their keepers. "We travel by plane and the falcons stay with us," he says. "We keep a seat for them, which is sold at half price." Hunting to survive, says Hamad, is an Arabian tradition. "Falcons hunt for desert chickens, bustards, rabbits, small gazelle; we don't feed them for two days before a hunt."

Hunting, he says, is not simply a pursuit for the rich. "Anyone can take part and experience the tradition of the old days when hunting was for survival. We hunt for our sons and daughters, the younger generation, to remind them of their ancestors. You have to keep traditions alive."

Hamad releases captive-bred falcons into the wild in countries such as Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. "The government supports this in the Gulf. We take them in a plane full of perches and we remove all their ID except their microchips. They need to be independent, so they have no human contact before they are released and in 10 or 20 days they revert to being wild."

There are falcon souks at the Nad Al Sheba Falcon Centre: only registered falconers can make a purchase but anyone can wander around, admiring the sakers, peregrines and gyrfalcons. The hunting season runs from September to the early summer, until the birds start their seasonal moult. The brand-new centre has high cream walls, ochre tiled floors and a lofty, tented ceiling; here falconers can buy leather hoods and jesses (tethers), bells, travelling cases and perches. The more traditional perches are made of stone or wood, but Astroturf is also available; it's comfortable on the birds' feet and easy to clean.

According to one of the falconers at Nad Al Sheba, the stunning Burj Al Arab hotel uses hawks to chase out the birds that regularly find themselves blundering around its air-conditioning system. Dubai is, in fact, renowned for its varied birdlife, and although the city can feel like one huge building site, there is still room for wildlife.

The Ras Al Khor Wildlife Reserve, at the seaward end of Dubai Creek, initially looks unpromising, with its backdrop of skyscrapers, hoardings, pylons and flyovers. In fact, this is an internationally recognised wetland habitat. The birds here remain in the mangrove swamps they have always inhabited, unmoved by the ceaseless hum of the traffic on Ras Al Khor Road. I counted more than 20 spoonbills foraging over the silty flats, while a marsh harrier, an osprey and two greater spotted eagles wheeled overhead. The most prominent birds among the reserve's community are the large flock of flamingos, which can number well over 2,000, wading placidly on bright, candy-pink legs, or dozing with their heads tucked into their soft pink plumage.

Driving through the city with Zahed Dalati, my guide, we stopped to let some camels cross the road, a long-lashed baby scampering alongside its mother. The adult camels all had brightly coloured woven nose cones, for sale in the Nad Al Sheba market, where Zahed pulled in to show me the bundles of alfalfa and the enormous vats of date syrup that are supposed to make a racer go even faster. "If your camel eats dates, he doesn't have to drink Red Bull," said Zahed. The market has been on its roadside site for centuries, long before the exclusive Nad Al Sheba Club and racetrack were even dreamed of, and its car park was full of rickety old trucks, padded with carpet, used to transport the camels. Owners can also buy the robots here that are now used instead of children to ride the camels as they gallop along the racetracks; the owners follow in cars, kicking up clouds of dust, directing the robots by remote control.

Zahed was happy to show off the sights of Dubai city (including the massive desalination plant which provides the water for lawns and trees as well as people). But it was in the Al Awir desert that he was truly in his element, pointing out bitter gourds in the sand and breaking a leaf from an innocent-looking bush to show its poisonous, blinding milky sap. A family of camels swayed past, barely glancing at our 4x4. Zahed, taking his responsibility to provide an alternative view of Dubai possibly a little too seriously, detoured via a camel farm to share the slightly alarming sight of camel insemination. Apparently the male camels need a helping hand because the softness of the dune sand makes it difficult for them to balance. We finished the afternoon on the top of a dune, sitting on carpets and cushions, watching the sun go down, to the gentle strains of the lute-like oud, sipping champagne. A Bedouin grill, with barbecued lamb, chicken and sauces and dips was waiting for us down the valley.

Dubai Creek, which divides the city in two, is still lined with wooden dhows. These look romantic from a distance, but pass close by in an abra (water taxi) and it's clear that they are still very much working boats. Goods are shipped here from Europe and Japan in containers, and continue their journey by dhow to destinations such as Iraq and Iran.

Dubai's museum, housed in a former fort, charts the settlement's history from pearl-fishing village to international commerce centre. The museum is not huge but it is interesting, with 3D tableaux that give some perspective on the city's extraordinary transformation and modernisation from its humble beginnings.

Dubai is well known as a melting pot and everyone you speak to refers proudly to the number of different nationalities and religions found here; estimates vary but Zahed suggested around 100 nationalities and 86 faiths, all freely allowed to practise. Dubai's "Open Doors, Open Minds" programme allows non-Muslims to visit the Jumeirah mosque, one of the city's landmarks. A surprising number turn up for the tours, the women all armed with headscarves, though these can also be borrowed. Shoes come off at the imposing gates and designer footwear is piled beside jewelled flip-flops.

"I'm not a religious leader, I'm a real estate agent - I can sell you an apartment if you wish," began our genial guide, before giving us a potted history of Islam and explaining the way that services are conducted. He pointed out the computerised Koran (from China), which translates the sacred writings into 17 different languages, and the digital LCD monitor which beeps to signal the start of prayer time. Friendly and informal, the visit ended with an open invitation to an Arabic meal cooked by our guide's mother.

The average length of stay in Dubai is only three nights, but perhaps it should be longer, given the amount there is to do over and above collecting designer labels. And as for the shopping? I didn't have time for a single mall.

TRAVELLER'S GUIDE

GETTING THERE

Dubai can be reached from Heathrow on British Airways (0870 850 9850; www.ba.com), Virgin Atlantic (08705 747 747; www.virgin-atlantic.com), Biman Bangladesh Airlines (020-7629 0252; www.bimanair.com) and Emirates (0870 243 2222; www.emirates.com): Emirates also flies from Gatwick, Birmingham, Manchester and Glasgow. Abu Dhabi is also a possible gateway. Four nights at the Park Hyatt Dubai costs £879 with Aspire (0845 345 9095; www.aspireholidays.co.uk) including flights from Gatwick to Abu Dhabi and transfers.

VISITING THERE

The Dubai Museum in Al Fahidi Fort (00 971 4 353 1862) is open Sat-Thurs, 8.30am-8.30pm, and 2.30-8.30pm on Fridays.

The Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding (00 971 4 353 6666; www.cultures.ae), runs visits to the Jumeirah Mosque at 10am on Saturdays, Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Excursions such as the author's sunset safari can be arranged through Dubai Tourism (00 971 4 223 0000; www.dubaitourism.ae) from £143 for a half-day.

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