<span>Abu Dhabi. Dubai. </span><span>Six months ago, these places sounded so exotic to me; far-flung holiday destinations reserved for those in search of culture, adventure and a touch of glamour. Then I moved here. </span> <span>The first time I stepped foot on UAE soil was </span><span>when I left Abu Dhabi </span><span>International Airport to make the short journey to my hotel, before starting work at </span><span><em>The National</em></span><span> the next day</span><span>. It's been all go ever since. Abu Dhabi was no longer an exotic spot to me: it's my place of work, where I </span><span>do my food shopping, visit</span><span> the doctor, exercise</span><span> – it's my home.</span> <span>And while my weekends over the past five months have featured desert jaunts, kayaking and trips to the beach – with one or two brunches thrown in – I never really paused to see the UAE the way tourists see it, the way I would have seen it before </span><span>my big move.</span> <span>But last week, I had my first visitor, who had spent weeks telling me how excited she was </span><span>to come here </span><span>on holiday. Initially, the pressure of trying to plan what to do</span><span>, where to go and what to eat while she was here took over. I was so grateful </span><span>that she was flying all the way from the UK to see me</span><span> that I</span><span> was determined to make sure she had a good time.</span> <span>But once she got here</span><span>, my mindset </span><span>switched completely. I stopped panicking, planning and overthinking, and realised that, as it was the first time I </span><span>would be spending a week off in </span><span>the UAE, it was my holiday, too. Rather than play host, with </span><span>recommendations of </span><span>must-see spots, I switched </span><span>to explorer mode</span><span> and looked for places we could discover together, the kind of </span><span>sites that keep </span><span>about 30 million tourists flocking to the UAE each year.</span> I had been saving my trip to the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque for a visitor, as I imagined it would be a place I would take many people during my time in Abu Dhabi. When I first drove past it, tired from my seven-hour flight and nervous after landing in a new country, I was captivated by its beauty. In the five months that followed, I must have seen it hundreds of times – I can see it through the office window as I write this – and yet, it wasn't until I stepped inside the mosque, to see it through the eyes of a tourist, that I truly appreciated how incredibly beautiful it is, and what it means to the UAE.<span>When you live in the centre of a tourist's playground, it's easy to switch off from it all. </span><span>That means avoiding the crowds, carv</span><span>ing out your own space, and slowing </span><span>the pace of your life to a sustainable</span><span> routine</span><span>. But every once in a while, it's good to remind ourselves </span><span>how lucky we are to live in a place </span><span>that people across the world spend weeks</span><span>, and sometimes months</span><span>, dreaming of visiting, and will </span><span>pay</span><span> thousands of dirhams to get to.</span> <span>I had spent months eating in restaurants attached to five-star hotels, so we went in search of Middle Eastern food, the kind that doesn't break the bank and can be enjoyed on the side of </span><span>a pavement in downtown Abu Dhabi, not tucked away in the confines of a glistening resort on the edge of the city.</span> <span>We went to Dubai, and took in the wonder of the world's tallest building</span><span>, Burj Khalifa</span><span>, alongside the hundreds of other people crouched </span><span>in the city's Downtown, trying desperately to fit it all in the frame on their phone's camera. It</span><span> was always there</span><span>, standing proudly </span><span>as part of the Dubai skyline, but it was the first time I </span><span>stopped to truly marvel at it.</span> <span>By the time we reached our final day together, the temperature had climbed to 36</span><span>°</span><span>C, and we had planned to spend </span><span>our time on Al Maya Island, </span><span>about 10 minutes by boat from Abu Dhabi</span><span>. After an hour of paddle boarding, we retired to our sun loungers, to reflect on the past week</span><span>. "I can't believe I have to go back to reality tomorrow," my friend whined, sad to leave the beach, the sunshine and the excitement of the UAE behind.</span> <span>And that's when it hit me. </span><span>What was a grand holiday for her is my reality. Sure, I go to work, I do my chores</span><span> and I may have been taking this place for granted. But if I want to, I can return to that same beach, those same attractions, or countless other new ones, and do it all over again next weekend.</span> <span>At last, the Abu Dhabi I imagined and the Abu Dhabi </span><span>I discovered when I moved here found their middle ground, and I'm going to try from now on to think of </span><span>every weekend, </span><span>every day off, </span><span>every little break, as my own mini holiday.</span>