Its 17:45 and you are lost in a traditional souk, shopping for gold or exotic spices. From the distance you see a glimpse of the river, you slowly approach it. The river opens up and you can really take its majesty - the wind towers, the abras (traditional boats) coming and going with produce, tourists and who knows what else. Men and women rushing by, wearing their traditional, secretive costumes. The sun is setting and the water glimmers in reflection. The call to prayer starts. At that moment, for the first time ever, you feel that you are part of the world, a world that you know very little about but that fascinates your every bone. This is the only Dubai worth seeing for what it was. The rest is concrete, glass and soulless opulence.
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