I have just finished a book called Burned Alive by a woman called Souad. She was a teenager when her brother-in-law poured petrol over her head and set fire to her. Her crime was serious in “honour” killing terms among Palestinians; she was pregnant. B …

Here is the first of my special guest blogs, it is an email from Bea, aged seven, to her grandmother……. dear mormor i hope you will com to see ous in abu dabi i will com to see you soon if my sister in italy abu dabi is nice but its hot but it dasent m …

It is a well-known fact that no one outside Sweden speaks Swedish. I have found this particularly useful when it comes to dealing with the children. To outsiders they seem seamlessly polite, with their pleases and thank yous and please may I get down f …

This is the conversation the children and I had in Suda’s car yesterday. “Are you all happy to continue our adventure, or would you prefer to go home?” I asked. “I’m happy to continue my adventure,” said Olivia. “Abu Dhabi is my best village ever,” sai …

Here I am again in the middle of the night wondering why I am awake. Yesterday was not a great day. The flat fell through. I would have wept but was unsurprised by the inevitability of it. Rupert, as always, looked on the bright side. He suggests we us …

Proof, if it was needed, that my neural pathways are well and truly blocked comes from the fact that I am finding it impossible to get my head around Sunday being Monday. Today (Monday), for example, feels like Tuesday and I woke up thinking about all …

I am hoping I have hit the low point. After yet another night of no sleep, a bean-bag exploding all over Amanda’s flat and no response from my high-powered contact, I was told the ballet class I wanted the girls to go to was full. I did what any normal …

So the international conspiracy to keep me awake has now reached ridiculous proportions. I leave the hotel room next to the mosque to move into my friend Amanda’s flat while she is away. But now instead of the mosque I have the combination of four cats …

When a publisher first wrote to me offering me a book deal after my first Sunday Times column, I assumed it was a vanity publisher, keen to make a fast buck. This morning I had an email that I read four times before I was convinced it wasn’t my best fr …

“What is the hardest thing in Abu Dhabi?” Olivia asked the other day as she stood by the pool at The Club, tucking into an ice cream. “My stomach?” suggested Rupert. “Not having anywhere to live?” I ventured. “Eating an ice-cream,” said Olivia. “It mel …