Well-crafted questions can be your unassuming tool to discover a stranger’s nature in an instant.
Bar the mandatory 3 that are mechanically discharged upon a new acquaintance:
1.      Where are you from?
2.      How long have you been in Dubai?
3.      What do you do?
I hold in my back pocket, a handful of coy questions I poignantly toss, such as, “Where do you enjoy going to the beach in Dubai?”


Response: “I don’t go to the beach.”
That feeling when I kick off my shoes and feel the sand between my toes as I strut to the sea. When I pause for a split second before touching the water, “Will it be hot, cold or too hot?” A rush of freedom takes over me, I don’t care what it is, I think, as I run into it and give myself to the water.
How can you not crave that freedom?  

Response: “Always a Hotel.”
A well produced puppetry play.
I lay my bag next to a beach chair. A kind gentleman, furnishes the beach chair with a fluffy towel, tucks in the edges and hands me a drink with a pink umbrella. Thank you.
I return from a dip in the water to find a lovely popsicle waiting for me, not a bead of sweat on it yet, must be right out of the freezer. I lie on my fluffed towel and take a lick while basking in the stage lights of the sun while the backstage hustles and bustles to restock the popsicle freezer.
Occasionally it’s amusing to be on stage, but my hands and legs have no place for strings. Do yours?
Response: “Public Beach.”
I throw my towel in the air and it lands in a perfect square, a beach ball rolls over it leaving a trail of sand. “Perdone, señorita.” I smile as I bounce it back to well tanned Spaniard.
I reach into my bag and adjust my speakers to connect to my phone, oozing out, a slew of summertime ballads.
Sunglasses and tanning lotion on, I lay, partially on the beach and partially within the pages of the novel I thumb through, interrupted by the occasional friend greeting me with their sunny smiles.  
A blurred few hours later, I rise, peckish, stepping over the Frenchman, the Brazilian bombshell, passing the kites, it's Kite Beach after all and finally reaching Park House.

Beach-kitch, with its white, grey and blue tones. Seats dotted with sun kissed, barefooted and salty haired patrons.
I approach the counter to place my order. On the menu a well curated bunch of comfort food offerings, something both children and adults would enjoy.
“One mushroom green salad, toasted turkey and cheese sandwich and a grapefruit juice.” I say.
Spearing my greens while sipping on my grapefruit juice, the fresh flavors start cooling my insides.
I run my index finger along the toasted grooves of my turkey cheese sandwich and take a bite. The lovely bread crunches well but I would asking for an extra slathering of mustard.  
On my way out I grab a cookie ice-cream sandwich. Unraveling it, I take cold bite and wonder if I should have gone for the churros next door?
Satisfied with a meal that is as concise as a square, a nod a hello to the even more tanned Spaniard and I lay back down.
There’s no people like public beach people they’re my people.
Park House is a well thought out, moderately well priced and very well located café. It’s attention to detail with regards to design shows through. It’s inclusion to the Dubai restaurant scene is welcomed as I always respect an independent home grown concept. Does it offer something new or elevated with regards to food? No. But when on the beach I will be visiting it every other time. One times goes to Taqado and the other to Park House.


Location: Kite Beach
Cuisine: Comfort Beach Food
Price per couple: 150 AED