Since arriving in the desert I have wondered how Dubai actually put itself on the map? Have you ever seen that picture of Dubai 25 years ago? It’s basically a road with some buildings either side of it. I’m 95% certain that it has to do with oil, but I’ve been wrong in the past. Either way, when you fly with a prince down here you get a snapshot of just how the other half lives.

 

I’ve flown with Abdulaziz (I call him Adam to keep it simple) about five times in the last year so I’m starting to get to know him. The one thing I always notice when we are away for a few days is the cabin crew, who are normally all over my handsome self, don’t even give me a look in. The romantic power of money floods the hotel while I’m left alone scrolling through Facebook on my cracked-screen iPhone.

 

Sitting in the cruise, 37’000ft, I’m reading The Guardian when the headline appears in front of me about the ‘Paradise Papers’. My first thought goes to Trump and the climate change thing he opted out of but honestly I don’t have a clue about this stuff so I just ask him. “Adam, what do you think of this Paris/Paradise stuff?” His eyes widen and he stutters, “My, my friend. This Paradise thing is a distraction. I think what is most surprising is that this Bono, from Ireland, is among the offenders. No?” My brain goes into overdrive, like a fat kid in a sweet shop, there’s almost too much information there. Firstly, Bono is a fucking saint! Fact! Secondly, the prince is hiding something and I am going to piss him off until he tells me what it is.

 

I go in gently and pronounce “Bono is basically a saint, Adam, he campaigns for equality and justice for the poorer nations of the world; he’s like a poor mans Bob Geldolf. It says here in the paper that he is ‘extremely distressed’ that he has been involved in any attempt to avoid taxes.” I will not have a bad word said about Bono, the man wrote Discothéque for Gods sake. To reply, “This man is an “artist” (he actually does the air-quotes) purely for tax purposes” is absurd and insulting, but he goes right ahead and says it anyway.

 

Game on!

 

“Does any of this reporting have any impact on your family businesses in the UK and US? Because, I recall you previously mentioned that there are ways to ‘work in those jurisdictions, without paying a cent of tax’ your words not mine” I ask without even a hint of a smile. To answer: “No. No. My friend. My family has, to date, not been named in any leak like this” smells like the he’s engaging in some form of Allister Campbell media spin. The addition of the words ‘to date’ indicate there may be a smoking gun. “Is there any concern that the recent arrests in Saudi, of so many royals, for perceived illegal activities could extend to the family or are you guys all good?”

 

Too much?

 

“My friend. Who do you think you are speaking to? I am a prince! I am a prince, who has treated you not as a petty servant but a friend and you insult me with these, these, slurs.” My reply is classic me, “Relax “prince” (air-quotes reply by me). Jeez. You know I’m only pulling your chain!” I think I may have pushed it too far, he is literally freaking out. “No. This is not good enough. You will apologise or you will be visited by the local magistrate and you will be sent where the streets have no name.”

 

I just need this to end, and given the company could confiscate my passport for upsetting him I get to apologising. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry dude. Look, it’s a beautiful day, we are here at 37’000ft staring at the sun and we don’t need to fall out over this.”

 

Crisis averted. “Okay LJ, my friend, I accept your apology. Let our two hearts beat as one on this flight deck and let us move forward. Sometimes my pride just gets the better of me.”

 

I don’t know about Bono, or his tax arrangements, but these princes sure do move in mysterious ways.

 

Photo by Dan Freeman on Unsplash