Bhavya’s Parents Trip to Dubai: A Thrillophilia Review Filled with Love

When my parents came back from their Dubai trip, they couldn’t stop smiling, a kind of smile I’ve seen after so many years. They looked like a couple of teenagers really. As they unpacked their bags, souvenirs spilled out like treasures from a chest. But the real treasure was yet to come, their story. And I could see that they wanted to just sit there and talk about their exciting trip to Dubai.

So, I made tea and we sat together and listened to the tale from their travels in the City of Gold.

It was their first trip abroad, a gift I had planned for them using my first salary and hearing their experiences made it feel like the most rewarding thing I had ever done.

A First Step into a New World

“It was like entering another planet,” my father began, describing the moment they landed in Dubai. The airport, with its gleaming floors, and an interior that is bathed in natural light, with high ceilings, glass walls, and expansive walkways that provide an open, airy atmosphere.

They told me that the biometric scanning technology is used for smoother check-ins and boarding processes, allowing passengers to breeze through security with just a face scan.

Additionally, self-check-in kiosks and smart gates ensure a faster, more efficient flow of travellers. My mother chuckled as she remembered how she had held up the queue because she was too busy admiring the gigantic indoor waterfall.

As my parents explained, their first few days in Dubai were all about tapping into their adventurous sides. They visited SeaWorld, and my father was instantly mesmerized by the underwater tunnels. “It felt like the ocean came alive around me,” he said, describing the vibrant schools of fish, manta rays, and the hypnotic movements of jellyfish. My mother, always one to look for quiet beauty, said that she found herself enchanted by the soothing sounds of water and the playful antics of seals.

At Ferrari World, everything changed, the tone of the trip took a 180-degree drift. My father, usually the composed one, became a child again, marvelling at the sleek cars and braving the high-speed roller coasters. “I screamed my lungs out,” he admitted, laughing at his own enthusiasm. My mother, though hesitant at first, eventually joined him, and her shaky video of the coaster ride became the centrepiece of their storytelling.

“I didn’t know I could scream that loud!” she confessed, grinning.

Sunsets and Souks

On their third evening, Thrillophilia had planned a visit to The View at the Palm for my parents, where Dubai unfolded like a glittering tapestry beneath them.

“The sunset,” my mother said, “was like a painting—golden streaks fading into pink and purple, reflecting off the water.” My father pointed out landmarks and traced the iconic palm-shaped island with his finger, while my mother quietly soaked in the view, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all.

The Dubai City Tour was a dive into the city’s dual soul. My parents loved the historic charm of Deira and Bur Dubai, with their bustling souks and traditional wooden abras ferrying people across the creek. My mother spoke about the spice souk, where the aroma of saffron, cardamom, and dried roses mingled with the chatter of traders. My father, on the other hand, marvelled at the towering Burj Khalifa and other modern skyscrapers, their mirrored surfaces gleaming under the sun.

“I’ve never seen a garden like that,” my mother said, talking about the Miracle Garden. “It wasn’t just flowers; it was pure art made from flowers.” She described massive sculptures of peacocks, castles, and even an Emirates airplane, all made entirely of blossoms. My father, not usually one for such displays, admitted it was impressive. “It’s hard not to appreciate something so… perfect,” he said.

At Global Village, they explored pavilions representing cultures from around the world. My father, an unapologetic foodie, tried everything he could get his hands on—from Middle Eastern kebabs to Turkish delights.

My mother admired the colourful crafts, textiles, and trinkets, carefully selecting souvenirs that now sit proudly in their living room.

Desert Dreams

Their final day in Dubai brought the much-anticipated desert safari.

“Imagine speeding over giant sand dunes,” he said, his hands gesturing as if steering the 4x4. My mother added her perspective, laughing as she admitted that she kept closing her eyes during the ride but secretly loved the thrill of it.

The campsite was a different world altogether. They were greeted with warm smiles and traditional dates, which my mother described as “so sweet they felt like dessert.” As the sun dipped below, painting the desert in hues of gold and orange, they enjoyed a BBQ dinner under the stars.

“The performances were mesmerizing,” my father said. The swirling colours of the Tanoura dancers left them spellbound. My mother even tried balancing a traditional clay pot on her head during one of the interactive cultural activities. “I almost dropped it,” she admitted with a laugh.

What stayed with them the most, though, was the silence of the desert. “When the music stopped, and the campfires burned low,” my mother said, “you could hear nothing but the wind. It was the most peaceful thing I’ve ever felt.”

A Journey Worth Every Moment

Listening to them talk, I realized their trip was about the emotions, the memories, and the joy of discovering something new together. They had stepped out of their comfort zones, embraced adventure, and returned home with stories that would last a lifetime.

“Everything was so well-planned,” my father said, praising the smooth logistics and detailed itinerary. My mother nodded in agreement, adding, “Esha Raj, especially, was so helpful. She answered all our questions and made sure everything was perfect.”

And as for me, seeing them happy was the ultimate reward. It was a reminder to myself of how special it is to share these experiences with the people you love. And for that, I couldn’t thank Thrillophilia enough.

As they finished their stories and settled back into the routine, I caught my father scrolling through photos on his phone, a soft smile on his face. My mother, meanwhile, carefully arranged her souvenirs on the shelf, already planning which stories to tell when friends and family came over.

Dubai had left its mark on them, but more importantly, it had brought us closer in a way I didn’t think possible.