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I meet-up with El Sheikh for a long promised lunch at what he insists on calling the "American Club" though I see these days the sign says "International Community Club".
It's extraordinary. Beyond a garden wall and a parched lawn is an outdoor swimming pool filled with fat, near-naked people and surrounded by sun loungers – err, like excuse me but, is anyone actually going to lie outside when it's 41C in the shade? (the answer is of course yes, and I shouldn't criticise what I don't understand). He heartily recommends, and so we order, fish and chips. We wash it down with freshly squeezed, gently sweetened grapefruit juice.
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