So you enter Dubai Gold Souk or Golden bazaar and walk slowly along modern glass shop-windows. Having turned a little you bump into very old oriental-style wooden doors leading in to the unknown. Cracked from dryness wood substance of the locked ancient doors, large iron barrier bar. For people of great invention it might be momentary but reflection. Different imagines of bazaars from the Arabian Nights are coming back.

There is a shoe window hereby- home-made turned-up toes slippers.

On the right at the Golden bazaar entrance there is a boutique with golden “mails”. I placed such name because those huge gold jewelry put in the window by this boutique owners are hard to be called necklaces: either they are wedding presents (particularly those five kilos ones to be paid as a price for a bride) or show-goods to attract visitors' attention. Anyway this particular shop-window is one of the best to look at.

Old Gold Souk is just one street with jewelry boutiques selling gold items with precious stones. All the shops are opposite each other with a narrow public footpath between. Police cars with watchful police officers in them run over and over again.

Gold Souk is followed by a flea market. Sometimes a gold selling stall is slipping through between frocks and panties but because of this rigging neighborhood rise doubts about precious metal authenticity.

A little further there is a fish market worth coming at the crack of dawn to pick up fresh seafood.

Deira prices are much lower in comparison with Dubai malls. But it’s a little embarrassed to stroll the streets alone – there are only men around.

Evening channel tour is enjoyable and cognitive either. There is silence. Only the play of the waves can be heard. My eye is catching the contours of people sitting at the tables along the embankment. Identical dhow-boats decorated with lampions are floating toward our boat again and again. Not so that you'd notice Abra–boats are floating like shadows. Old fort configuration is silhouetting against darkness as if it were a phantom from the past. Muezzin’s pleasant voice is breaking the silence calling Muslims for evening service. Things go on just the same as many centuries ago.