I was his first Dubai Memory

He landed early 6:45 a.m at Terminal 3, no sleep. A tech founder from Norway, here for a conference he wasn’t excited about. Dubai was just another pin on his travel map until me.

His assistant had booked everything all he knew was that “Audrey will meet you at 7:30. She’ll be in black.” I was.

When he stepped into the car, I greeted him with a soft smile and cold water. “You hungry?” I asked. He said yes, and I took him to my favorite hidden breakfast spot in Jumeirah no tourists, just warm saffron milk and khameer bread.

He didn’t talk much that morning. Just watched me, curious. I asked about his home, and he told me about fjords and snow. Then, almost shyly, he said, “You’re not what I expected. You’re calmer.”

That day, we skipped his meetings. He asked if I could show him “the real Dubai.” So I did not just the views, but the pace, the contrasts, the soul of it. The wind on his face during a private abra ride. The silence inside the Grand Mosque courtyard. A sunset from a rooftop with Arabic jazz in the background.

On his last night, he said, “I’ve seen photos of Dubai all my life. But now, every time I see one I’ll think of you.”

That’s the thing about first memories. They don’t fade. They imprint.

And I’ve always loved being unforgettable.