My dear Asma,
I have to tell you about my stay at The Lana, because the moment I stepped inside, I thought of you. “She would love the decor and the vibe”. Even though it sits right in the middle of Dubai’s endless hum, the second those doors opened, serenity wrapped itself around me. Burgundy and salmon tones swirled with soft gold details, and suddenly the city’s energy quieted into something graceful and composed. It felt like being transported into the essence of the Dorchester world. That unmistakable blend of refinement, soul, and thoughtful beauty, yet here, it was gently infused with local warmth, textures, and a sense of place that made everything feel authentic to Dubai rather than borrowed from somewhere else.
My suite echoed that duality, spacious and airy, with a retro New York spirit seamlessly meeting modern comfort. Everything was intuitive; one switch dimmed all the lights at once (which I find rare nowadays!), as if the room already understood what I needed. And then the personal touches: amenities wrapped just for me, and those utterly posh slippers embroidered with my initials. I actually laughed when I saw them, they made me feel like visiting royalty. And indeed, I lived like one for a day and a half!
The hotel was almost full, which surprised me, but also made me happy. It was beautiful to see locals and visitors blending into the rhythm of the place, especially around afternoon tea in The Gallery. Asma, I’m not exaggerating when I say it was the best afternoon tea I’ve had. The hibiscus-infused scones were the highlight. Fragrant, soft, almost floral, and when I casually mentioned I love extra cream, the lovely Nyma arrived with a double portion, delivered with a smile that made the whole moment feel sweeter.
One evening I went up to the High Society pool at sunset. The sun slipped behind the Burj Khalifa, painting the sky in amber and lilac, and in that moment I remembered once again why I love this city, and how it became home without even asking for permission. Its contrasts, its ambition, its corners and circles… all of it still moves me.
Dinner later that night felt like a continuation of that tenderness. The burrata with figs was my favourite. Figs always take me back to childhood, to our fig trees and the simple joy of picking fruit warm from the sun. Even today, in perfume, I always reach for fig. It anchors me. Through that flavour, I somehow eased into the night.
Later, much later, as I was falling asleep, Olivia Dean’s voice played in the dark — “I’m ready to dive…” You know how her music is soft yet honest, gentle yet brave. Her lyrics stayed with me, and I kept listening: “…I’m a perfect mix of Saturday night and the rest of your life, anyone with heart would agree.” Somehow, the stay, the hotel’s beauty, and her words folded into each other, opening me up to a feeling I can’t fully name yet. A sense that the world is wide again. That some things are better left unspoken, and yet their silence is loud enough to be felt.
I thought you’d understand that.
Always yours,
Milo
