Friends in high places
During my time in Dubai in the mid to late 90’s I was travelling every week around the Middle East. I quickly gained ‘Gold’ traveller status and knew many of the Emirates Stewardesses by name. In 1997 alone I had almost 90 outbound flights from Dubai. It’s fair to say, I was a seasoned traveller!
I had to travel from Dubai to Tel Aviv in Israel to see a prospective customer. Now usually you would have to fly to a politically neutral country and then catch a flight to Israel. The closest connection was via Cyprus which was a very long way. You had to take other precautions as well, such as using a second passport to ensure that you did not have an Israeli stamp in your main passport. This would have given me many problems if you then tried to travel to other Middle Eastern countries.
Emirates then introduced a flight via Cairo in Egypt which was much faster, so I decided to give this route a try. I flew the first leg to Cairo with no issues and made my way off the plane and towards the ‘transit’ area of the airport ready to catch my connecting flight. As I entered the transit area, I passed some very severe looking military men who were armed to the teeth and found myself in a windowless room with benches to each wall. There was one exit which went up some stairs and into the departure area. I was greeted by an Egyptian immigration official in military uniform and told to take a seat. He took my passport and disappeared up the stairs.
I sat and waited. Nobody came back to the room, and I was alone. I had 2 hours to my connecting flight departure to Tel Aviv and after an hour I started to get concerned. After an hour and a half, I was very concerned that I would miss my flight, so I made my way up the stairs towards the departure lounge. The Colonel’s office was walled by glass, and I noticed he pushed my passport under his desk blotter as he saw me. He came out and stood in front of me. The Colonel was a large and imposing man with a huge moustache.
“Where do you think you are going?”
I greeted him in Arabic, and then in English, and explained that I was likely to miss my flight, so could I have my passport back and make my way to the gate? He denied having my passport and so I pointed out that it was under his desk blotter. He retrieved it and then accused me of having a fake passport. He nodded to a very young soldier standing to the entrance of the departure lounge who immediately drew his pistol and held the barrel to my temple.
Looking back, my reaction was extremely British. I put my hands in the air to show that I was no threat and asked him to call the British embassy immediately. I also asked if the safety catch was on!
As this was happening an Emirates Stewardess was walking past in the departure lounge and glanced across. “Hi Joe, are you OK?”
“Morning! I have to say I have had better days”.
She immediately ran to the Emirates office and brought a senior manager to vouch for me and help me. The Colonel relented and let me go to catch my connecting flight after assurances from the Emirates staff that I was who I said I was.
In truth, the Colonel was just playing with me. He knew I was flying to Israel, and, coming from an Arab country with a UAE residents permit in my passport, flying to Israel he had decided to give me a hard time. I arrived in Tel Aviv on time and had a wonderful visit. I also changed my return flights to route via Cyprus!