Delayed travels

I am now in Dubai.  Sue, an old school friend, has often invited me to visit and returning from South Africa seemed like a good time. 

I have now been on four Qatar flights and not one of them has been on schedule.  So when we arrived at Doha from Cape Town over half an hour late, I was getting very nervous about catching my Doha-Dubai connection.  But by making sure I was on the first bus and then running through the terminal, I got to the gate 25 minutes before take-off.  Notices said that previously checked in passengers had to be there 20 minutes before take off, so I felt triumphant.  I had been checked in at Cape Town and I could see that other passengers were going through. 

When the man at the check in desk said that I must go to the Transfer Section instead, I immediately replied that I would miss my flight.  “Yes,” he replied placidly, handing me a boarding pass for the flight 4 hours later at midday.  When I asked what was wrong, he wouldn’t tell me.  Waiting at the Transfer Desk it slowly dawned on me (I don’t sleep on planes and was tired) that there hadn’t been time to transfer my luggage onto the early flight and I wasn’t being allowed through without it.    I wanted to be on my booked flight - I didn’t care if my bag came through later.  I knew that Sue’s husband was taking time off work to meet me - I’d never been to Dubai before and wouldn’t know my way around on my own.  I was nearly in tears, felt as though I was being treated like a piece of baggage and made sure the woman on the Transfer Desk was aware of this.

They gave me a voucher for a free breakfast  - a slice of Mother’s Pride topped with a flat piece of egg (not really an omelette), a vegetable samosa and some chips. (To paraphrase Catherine Tate - Here, in Dubai - the dirty bastartds!)  Also a cup of tea.  I then spent most of the following three hours wandering up and down the airport.  I found some comfy chairs where I could have slept for a while but I daredn’t.  No mobile, no watch due to previous theft in South Africa, so unable to set an alarm for the later flight.   However the comfy chairs (labelled quiet corner) were much comfier than the ones a few weeks ago in the Oryx Lounge.   This is worth remembering in the unlikely event I ever travel through Doha again. 

Doha airport has a lot of duty free shops with luxury (or highly priced) stuff which I didn’t want.  There were also quite a lot of women around wearing the fabric equivalent of three bin liner bags.  And the toilet attendant was sitting on the floor just by the door so I nearly tripped over her. 

I’ve heard that if you can enjoy the view when you’re forced into a detour, it’s a sign of a cheerful personality.  I can usually manage that, but not this time.   The statement should be modified to say unless it's  a detour round Doha airport when you're very weary.

However, it was much worse for a Greek couple I met.  They had missed their flight to Athens and would also miss their connection to Crete.  “Make them give you a hotel for tonight,” I suggested. “Tell them you can’t stay here all day.”  “No,” said the man, and he said it very gently in the circumstances.  “I don’t want a luxury hotel, anywhere. I just want to get home to Crete.”

I did get the later flight.  Peter did meet me.  I’m now in Dubai.  I slept for ages. Pictures tomorrow.