Upon entering African Queen, one is immediately greeted by Clet, the affable and utterly charming head of security. It’s rare to find a doorman whose warmth and charisma could rival the food, but Clet sets the tone for what is, surprisingly, one of the more relaxed and approachable spots in Dubai’s glittering J1 Beach scene. A bit of St. Tropez transplanted into the city’s most fashionable strip; it might seem like it belongs among the gilded beach clubs of La Mer, yet, African Queen stands apart, notably more humble, effortlessly cool, and with a refreshing sense of ease that many of its flashier neighbours lack.

The service is superb and personal. On more than one occasion, I was greeted by staff who, with a gleam of mischief in their eyes, reminisced about previous visits. It could be unnerving if not delivered with such warmth and good humour, but it’s this very charm that ensures you keep coming back. They’ve somehow mastered that rare art of being attentively familiar without feeling intrusive.

As the sun sets over the glistening beach, the atmosphere is exactly what you hope for in a Mediterranean-style hangout. The bar is a particularly good place to start: a team of bartenders who need no menu, just a brief description of your whims, will happily concoct whatever your heart desires. Whether perched by the pool or lounging on one of the generously spaced sunbeds, it’s all perfectly accompanied by the low hum of chill tunes that seem more like a soundtrack than background noise.

The aesthetic is unmistakably colonial chic, with those revolving fans spinning lazily overhead, as if to remind you that relaxation is paramount. The furniture is sophisticated, elegant, yet somehow still homely, like an old Riviera restaurant where the hours stretch on in an endless, sun-drenched afternoon.

The menu? Vast. Perhaps a bit daunting, but undeniably promising. We began our culinary adventure with the towering seafood platter — as formidable as it was delicious. Alongside it, a modestly simple kale salad that managed to be far more addictive than it had any right to be, and a side of beef carpaccio that offered just the right amount of indulgence without tipping over into excess.

The prawn chimichurri, a dish that could so easily go wrong, was a triumph. Indulgent without being overly rich, it provided the perfect balance to the dover sole — an unexpected, but entirely appropriate choice in this part of the world. The fish was expertly cooked, delicately accompanied by baked potatoes and a cool, creamy sour cream. All told, the main courses exuded that elusive balance of decadence and restraint that defines the very best of coastal dining.

Desserts were a bit of an anticlimax, though nothing to turn your nose up at. The sorbet was refreshingly simple and surprisingly reviving, while the pistachio tiramisu — I dare say it’s their signature and earned its place on the menu with good reason. Not groundbreaking, but undeniably enjoyable.

And so, with the meal complete, it was back to the bar stools for a final round of sundowners, watching the evening unfold as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. African Queen may not be the most show-stopping on J1 Beach, but it’s certainly the most effortlessly inviting, and that’s no small achievement in a city brimming with glitzy options.