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In the middle of the souks
It's warm. Very warm, in fact. Lunchtime at Dubai Creek.
After a short walk along the water - accompanied by screeching seagulls - we land at the Deira Old Souk Abra Station. From here the Abras - small wooden boats - go to the other side of the Creek.
Busily wandering people bring large parcels from the anchoring boats on old sack trucks to the souks: gold, spices, incense. After only a few steps we are in the middle of the Spice Souk. Already from a distance one could perceive all the smells, which are now very clearly recognizable: In the foreground incense. But not as stinging as you know it when you stand directly in front of a smoke lamp. Rather pleasant and round. From one of the innumerable corridors of the wood-clay construction a sweet smell emerges, telling the story of the traditional Arab pastry. In addition a colorful mix of the many spices offered on the souk. Not superficial and also not clearly differentiable, but nevertheless somehow present.
Lost in thought we stroll on, past the spice merchants, until we stand at the Dubai Creek again sometime and wait for our Abra, which brings us from the historic Dubai back into the modern world. The smell of the souk is still perceptible for a long time, until the Deira Abra Station disappears sometime on the horizon and the smell slowly fades away.
After a short walk along the water - accompanied by screeching seagulls - we land at the Deira Old Souk Abra Station. From here the Abras - small wooden boats - go to the other side of the Creek.
Busily wandering people bring large parcels from the anchoring boats on old sack trucks to the souks: gold, spices, incense. After only a few steps we are in the middle of the Spice Souk. Already from a distance one could perceive all the smells, which are now very clearly recognizable: In the foreground incense. But not as stinging as you know it when you stand directly in front of a smoke lamp. Rather pleasant and round. From one of the innumerable corridors of the wood-clay construction a sweet smell emerges, telling the story of the traditional Arab pastry. In addition a colorful mix of the many spices offered on the souk. Not superficial and also not clearly differentiable, but nevertheless somehow present.
Lost in thought we stroll on, past the spice merchants, until we stand at the Dubai Creek again sometime and wait for our Abra, which brings us from the historic Dubai back into the modern world. The smell of the souk is still perceptible for a long time, until the Deira Abra Station disappears sometime on the horizon and the smell slowly fades away.
MichaelS2019
