With my dental emergency over – after zillions of painkillers, anti-biotic pills and 6 injections in my butt, I was in desperate need of beer, alcohol, gasoline; anything.

And so armed with the only info on drinking alcohol in Yemen, I went to the ‘Sailors Club’ – hidden deep within the Red Sea port of Aden.

It was discreet.

I could buy beer and spirits inside … and there were women there !!!

Without veil !!!

Somalis mostly, some even drinking in the smoky, worn surrounds, looking out to the harbour and a supertanker gliding out in the sunset.

From where I sat at a front table alone, in this empty-ish place.

I watched two middle-aged Russian sailors, a few Arabs, a barmen, and several women. A couple of young black babes and a few very-worn-out ones; started circling around,  eyeing this strange youthful catch, drawing closer to me, getting bolder, and me, too, after my 3rd can of beer, was willing to play.

And then entered a black-draped Yemeni woman. Wow, look at her – eyes; smiling.

She sat down next to me, as the English speaking Somali, Sonia – her in jeans, introduced me to Arwa.

Sure she was Yemeni, from Sanaa, once married ( probably to an old guy who died – because she was touted to me as “only 16″; but maybe in her early 20s ? ).

Anyway, I assumed they were all hostesses there serving drinks, seated and being sweet, smiling at mens’ stupid jokes, for tips …

But that was not the case.

Back in the 11th century, in the southern central mountain town of Jibla, there was a great and benevolent queen in Yemen called Arwa. She ruled wisely and justly, built schools, roads, bridges, mosques, made lasting peace and ushered in a period of great prosperity for her people. And even today, she is still spoken of very highly; I know this cos I visited her city and tomb within the mosque some weeks back.  And now, I had this young beauty of her namesake, next to me, offering her body.

What was I to do?

The Arabian Nights fantasy was not disappointing; mutually ecstatic.

Watching her flip – like fast – off her encompassing black cloth, revealing her skimpy nightie. Our embrace of tight-hugged-dancing to Arabic music on the TV … before we got bed-bound.

I will leave the rest of the encounter to your imagination – as it will get too-beautifully pornographic.

It was a very weird situation.

Outside waited a “secret taxi”, having left in the club for a “secret hotel”, then checking into the hotel, while busting for a piss and her secreted in thru a side entrance.

And now, her sitting veiled, in the taxi backseat, as I sit in upfront (the driver insisted – too dangerous; we exchange aroused smirks, and I feel so boyish and in-teenage-love, as we drive across the hot, humid, dark night, and into a neon-lit ancient city, where our actions are impossible, unspeakable; forbidden.

Our parting is restricted to broad smiles and a fast good-bye as she dropped at a house and we race off,  and then I am alone, again. This mysterious Arabian girl gone. Like a mirage.

And an emptiness returns to my heart.

For a delicate moment: I was in love in Arabia.