It is warm. Very warm indeed. Lunchtime at Dubai Creek.
After a short walk along the water - accompanied by loudly screeching seagulls - we arrive at the Deira Old Souk Abra Station. From here, the Abras - small wooden boats - take us across to the other side of the creek.
Busy people wandering around bring large packages from the anchored boats on old handcarts into the souks: gold, spices, incense. After just a few steps, we find ourselves in the middle of the Spice Souk. Even from a distance, one could perceive all the scents that are now very clearly recognizable: foremost, incense. But not as piercing as one might expect when standing directly in front of a burner. Rather pleasant and rounded. From one of the countless alleys of the wooden-clay structure, a sweet smell wafts through, telling the story of traditional Arabic pastries. Along with it, a colorful mix of the many spices offered in the souk. Not prominent and also not clearly distinguishable, but somehow present.
Lost in thought, we stroll on, passing the spice merchants, until we eventually find ourselves back at Dubai Creek waiting for our Abra, which will take us from historic Dubai back to the modern world. The scent of the souk lingers long after the Deira Abra Station eventually disappears on the horizon and the smell slowly fades away.
