Back in the sand for a while, and the old carport potager is getting its annual update. I have been cultivating this little corner of Dubai for over a decade, and even now that I am away from it for long stretches of time, this plot continues to reward even the smallest investment. Gardening here is very simple in some ways, and exceptionally challenging in other ways, and this time of year in particular makes it feel easy: cooler nights and days hovering around 30’C mean that pretty much anything will flourish if you stick it in some half decent compost and water it. Papaya seeds I scooped out of a supermarket fruit and sowed a month ago are now 12 cms tall, and the amaranth seed collected from last year’s plants and hurriedly thrown on the soil a few weeks ago is now a pink and burgundy carpet. Neil’s cavolo nero and leek seedlings are coming up fast, and October’s mint cuttings now furnish enough leaves to adorn some watermelon.
If you wish to cultivate the same area year after year, you do however have to work a little harder. Depending on your precise location, the ‘soil’ here is either salty sand or sweet (inland, non-saline)sand, with occasionally sticky, silty wadi sand brought in to city gardens, all typically laid on top of builders’ rubble. Most gardeners enrich their garden beds with commercial or home made compost, but even then you are still working on what is effectively a giant colander. Nutrients are quickly watered through and out of such a free draining medium, and regular feeding therefore becomes imperative, especially if you wish to grow veg or flowering plants. We now, finally, have a healthy earthworm population but only after years of work. At some point, you also have to grapple with the knowledge that in achieving your lovely green sanctuary, its leafy occupants are gulping down water in an area of the world with the most extreme water stress, and that the Middle East (along with India)has the the highest withdrawal to supply ratio (>80%) globally. As ex-pat residents here we pay a higher rate than locals for our water, but perhaps not enough to make us switch to desert-appropriate planting. The weather here dictates moderation anyway: summer temperatures in excess of 45’c with humidity levels over 60/70% mean that there is very little activity between June and September, and even in October it remains too hot at night to germinate most northern hemisphere-type seeds. There is no shortage of plants here with which to stock an urban garden if home propagation is difficult. True desert natives may be not entirely suitable for the domestic garden, but tough imports like frangipani, Rangoon creeper, desert roses and the ubiquitous bougainvillea will supply colour, structure, scent and cover for walls and arbours almost year round.
The flip side of the water-guilt is the variety of life we support here. With no sprays or chemicals here for a decade, insect life has built up nicely. My favourites are the blue bees - properly known as black carpenter bees, (Xylocopa ctenoxylocopa fenetrata) but as they gleam a fabulous ultramarine in the sunlight, I prefer to call them blue - large affable types, the males swan around the garden in the morning claiming territory while the females home-build in any soft wood, lining the interior with materials from the
nearby plants. They often choose the bamboo canes we use as plant supports - bump into a cane and you sometimes here a disgruntled rumbling from inside, and sometimes a bee will pop out of the top of a cane and scold you, but this year an old table we use for barbecuing was selected and now has two very neat bee entrances munched in it.
The lime swallowtail butterfly (papilio demoleus) has also set up home here. Gifted a lime tree (which was supposed to be a lemon tree) by our dear friend Jenny, it now stoically tolerates its annual shredding by the swallowtail’s caterpillars. This year we were lucky enough to witness for the first time the adult butterfly emerging from one of the chrysalises dangling from the underside of the lime leaves. I am very happy to have scrappy lime leaves in return for these beautiful insects calling this garden home.
We also have a thriving population of geckos here living in our old compost bin, doing their damnedest to avoid capture by our two cats. Excellent controllers of the mosquito population here, from time to time a courageous member of the large family will stray inside the house, creating that classic “did I imagine that” response as you think you caught a lightning flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye.
Ultimate accolade has to go to the plantain palms. Six years after a friend gave me a surplus baby, its descendants tower over the other plants here, creating pockets of shade and an exotically tropical atmosphere. This generation are not fruiting as abundantly as previous generations (though that is down to my neglect), and take up huge amounts of space, but the extravagant fruiting buds with their sticky nectar remain a magnet for sunbirds. Reason enough to keep them.
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