Seventeen years ago I walked into my first gallery as a tape operator. Since February 2009 I've worked in London, Milan, Paris, Sydney, Singapore, and — for the last stretch — Dubai. I want to be honest about why I'm still here. The Middle East isn't a curiosity for me anymore; it's the busiest patch of broadcast work I've ever had.

Dubai has become a proper hub. Dubai Media City, Dubai Studio City and d3 are full of post houses, playout centres and the regional offices of the big sport broadcasters. DXB is one of the best-connected airports on the planet, which matters when you're a broadcast freelancer in Dubai flying to Riyadh on a Tuesday, Doha on a Friday and back in time for a Meydan shift on Saturday.

And the work has changed. Ten years ago, MENA was a fly-in, fly-out zone for European crew. Now, with the Saudi Pro League spending what it's spending, the FIFA World Cup in 2034 heading to Saudi, the Asian Games in Riyadh in 2034, and the World Expo legacy still humming in the UAE, there is a year-round calendar of live sport in the Middle East that needs senior EVS operators, VT coordinators, editors and producers based in the region.

The Middle East isn't a stepping stone anymore. Between the Saudi Pro League, Formula 1, the World Cup and the Olympics heading to the region, it's the busiest broadcast patch outside the US.

A typical week: Saudi Pro League in Riyadh

The rhythm of a Saudi Pro League broadcast week is now one of the most familiar in my diary. The SPL season runs August to May, and most matchweeks I'll get a message from the host broadcaster or the production company — usually a WhatsApp from someone I've worked with for years — asking if I'm free for a fixture list in Riyadh or Jeddah.

A typical week looks like this. I fly DXB to RUH on a Wednesday for a Friday night match. Thursday is rig day at the venue — Kingdom Arena or Al-Awwal Park in Riyadh, or Al Jawhara in Jeddah — where the OB trucks have already been built and we're checking EVS, server paths, replay channels and comms. Friday is matchday. Saturday is de-rig and a flight home, or straight to the next gig.

What surprises people who haven't worked a Roshn Saudi Pro League broadcast is the scale. These aren't smaller productions. Big matches have eight to twelve EVS operators, full highlights packages, world feed, bilateral feeds for international rights holders, and a separate Saudi Sports Company (SSC) unilateral layer. The quality bar is the same as anything I've done in the Premier League.

A different week: Dubai World Cup at Meydan

The Dubai World Cup at Meydan is a different beast entirely. It sits at the end of March every year and it's one of the richest single nights of horse racing in the world. As a freelancer based in Dubai I don't even need to board a plane — Meydan is twenty-five minutes from my flat.

The difference is the density. A normal football week is one match, maybe two. Meydan on World Cup night is nine races back-to-back, each one a full production in its own right, with a presenter layer, an international world feed, a separate racing feed, and a parade ring operation that runs in parallel. VT coordination goes from being a steady job to being a sustained sprint for six hours.

Then there's the weather. Late March in Dubai is still pleasant — low twenties at night, perfect for an outdoor OB. The same cannot be said for the rest of the calendar.

What a day actually looks like

People romanticise the job. So here's the honest version of a standard Saudi Pro League matchday, hour by hour:

  • 14:00 — Call time at the OB truck. Coffee, password resets, comms check. Sign in on the host broadcaster's crew sheet. Patch in my EVS channels and confirm the talkback matrix is mapping correctly.
  • 15:00 — Rig check. Confirm replay servers, ISO recordings, and the clips path to the editor. Run test records. Check that the highlights pipeline is talking to the graphics engine.
  • 16:30 — Production meeting. Director runs through the rundown, the storylines, what the rights holders want, what the sponsor obligations are, which player cam is live.
  • 18:00 — Warm-up and standby. Camera ISOs rolling. I mark the first batch of warm-up clips in case the opening titles need a montage.
  • 19:00 — Kickoff. From here it's heads-down. Every chance, every near miss, every card, every reaction. Replay one and replay two stay hot.
  • 21:00 — Full-time. The highlights package gets built live, in-match. Now we lock the final cut, push the post-match interviews, and feed the bilateral clients.
  • 22:30 — Wrap in the truck. Hand over media, sign off the logs, back up the project.
  • 23:30 — De-rig starts. Striking the EVS, pulling drives, labelling everything.
  • 01:00 — Out of the venue. Hotel, four hours' sleep, morning flight.

That's a real day. Eleven hours in the truck, two hours of de-rig, and a flight either side.

The kit you carry vs the kit that's there

A senior EVS operator in Dubai gets asked this a lot. The honest answer: I carry less than people think.

What's in my bag: laptop with Avid / Adobe and EVS IPDirector client, my own headset, a couple of USB-C drives for personal backups, label maker, Sharpies, gaffer, and a small hardware multiviewer that lives in my carry-on for hotel room checks. That's it.

What's already there: the OB truck, the EVS XT4Ks or IPDirector suite, the camera plan, the comms, the power, the AC, the crew. A good host broadcaster — and the Saudi and UAE operations are now very good — has everything waiting for you. My job is to plug in, configure, and deliver. I don't need to ship a flightcase across the world anymore.

If you're a freelance broadcast professional in the UAE, the beauty of being based here is that you don't have kit sitting in customs for three weeks. The host broadcaster has the truck. You bring yourself and your expertise.

Permits, visas, and getting paid

The boring operational stuff matters, so let's cover it plainly.

Media permits for UAE venues are not something I apply for personally. The host broadcaster or production company arranges them. As a freelancer, my job is to send a passport copy, a headshot and a signed NDA on time, and turn up. The same applies in Saudi — the host broadcaster handles the media accreditation and the venue access.

Visas are easier than they used to be. UAE residents like me travel visa-free or visa-on-arrival into Saudi for most broadcast work. European passport holders have similar access. The friction is nothing like it was even five years ago.

Getting paid is the bit nobody puts in the glossy posts. MENA gigs typically pay in USD or AED. Standard terms are 30 to 60 days from invoice, sometimes longer for government broadcasters. My rule: invoice on the day of de-rig, not the day after, chase politely at 30 days, and never work without a signed PO or email confirmation. The market is reliable on the whole, but it's not instant.

The Middle East broadcast scene: who's who

If you're going to work here, you need to know the players.

  • beIN Sports — based in Doha but a massive presence across MENA. They hold rights to a huge amount of European football and they fly crew in and out of DXB constantly.
  • Saudi Sports Company (SSC) — the Saudi rights-holder and producer. They are now one of the largest sport broadcasters in the region, and a major employer of freelance EVS and VT crew for the Saudi Pro League.
  • IMG — long-standing presence, particularly in golf and tennis, and increasingly in the broader Saudi sport calendar.
  • Dubai Media Inc. — the UAE's national broadcaster, with strong coverage of domestic sport and events.
  • The fly-aways — BBC Sport, Sky Sports, Amazon Prime Video, TNT. When Premier League or European competitions come to the region, they bring their own production teams and they hire locally-based crew. That's a big chunk of the work for someone like me.

That last group is important. A lot of UK and European crews still fly in for the big one-offs. When they land, they want local operators who know the venues, know the power, know the customs process, and know how things actually work on the ground in the Middle East. That's the gap I fill.

"The crew we trust in the Gulf are the ones who don't need hand-holding at the venue. Peter's been doing this long enough that I just send the call sheet and know the EVS layer will be clean. That peace of mind is why we keep flying the same names back."

— Mina Haddad, freelance sport director, Riyadh

Weather, prayer times, and operational realities

You can't write about being a broadcast freelancer in Dubai without writing about the climate.

From May to September, outdoor OBs in the Gulf are either night-only or stadium-roof-closed. Temperatures sit above 40°C for months. The humidity on the coast — Abu Dhabi, Doha, Jeddah — is brutal. Equipment has to handle it. AC in the OB truck in Dubai or anywhere else in the region is non-negotiable. I've seen a server rack fail in an unshaded compound at 48°C; it's not a mistake anyone makes twice.

Prayer times shape the day. Build schedules, venue access and even catering slots move around the five daily prayers. Friday in the UAE is a working day for sport — the workweek runs Sunday to Thursday, but sport weeks don't respect that. A Friday night kickoff in Riyadh is a normal shift.

Culturally, the rule is simple and easy to follow: respect local customs on site. No alcohol on shift. Modest dress at the venue. Be polite to the local crew — most of them have been doing this longer than you have. The Gulf is a welcoming place to work if you meet it on its terms.

How work finds you (and how you find it)

This is the question I get most: how do you actually get the work?

The honest answer is that in the Middle East, more than anywhere I've worked, work comes through people. WhatsApp groups are the single biggest job board in MENA freelance broadcast. There are groups for EVS operators, for VT editors, for directors, for sport-specific crews. A job goes up at 11pm, you reply by 11:02pm, you're on the rig.

LinkedIn DMs are the second channel. Referrals are the third — and they matter more than CVs. A director you delivered clean clips for in 2019 will ring you in 2026. A producer who trusted you on a 72-hour de-rig will put you forward for the next three years of work.

If I had one piece of advice for someone trying to break in: deliver on the first gig. Everything after that is easier. The market here has a long memory for people who are reliable, calm under pressure, and good in the truck.

What I'd tell a freelancer thinking about moving here

If you're a senior EVS operator, VT coordinator, or editor weighing a move to Dubai, here's what I'd say.

The work is here. The calendar is year-round and it's getting bigger, not smaller. The money is competitive, paid in USD or AED, and the lifestyle — if you're realistic about the summer — is good. DXB gives you access to Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia on a single flight.

The trade-offs are real. Summer is hard. You will be away from home a lot. The market is relationship-based, so the first six months can be quiet while you build trust. And the regulatory side — permits, visas, sponsorship — takes patience.

But if you've got the experience and you're willing to earn the second gig, this is the most exciting place in the world to be a broadcast freelancer right now. I came for a season in 2017. I'm still here. If you want to talk about a job — whether you're a production manager trying to fill a rig, or another op weighing the move — drop me a message.