Apologies for the quality of my photos in this section, my camera equipment was packed for the trip, so I only have what I captured on my phone.
I set off shortly after work, I get a shower and grab my suitcase packed the night before. I waste another 10 minutes checking the contents of the case and weigh my hand luggage for the umpteenth and final time. I then realize I’m going to miss my train if I don’t leave right now.
I spend the night in the cheapest possible hotel in Newcastle rather than risking a train early in the morning and it absolutely chucks it down. A friendly goodbye from England and I’m off to the airport in the morning.
I don’t know what the mystery floor is, but they really didn’t want me to press the button.
I will skip over most of the airport, but needles to say unpacking three cameras, a tablet, phone and two power banks was a pain. I then spend two hours before boarding packing around the airport trying to kill time (all of the food locations where closed and I end my wait with a double espresso to keep me awake long enough to get onto the plane).
The first flight it pleasant, I watch Avatar 2 and some seemingly random episodes of the Simpsons, but spend of my time listening to podcasts and make a good dent on David Jason’s Biography. I can’t express how boring this is and I play a game of trying to persuade myself we are closer to landing than we are.
The in-flight meal was better than I was expecting and I make a mental not to always have a tiny buttered roll with my meals in the future (including lamb curry).
In Dubai airport I had to go through security again, my cameras came back out of my bag and through the scanner with my shoes and belt. It was the same process but a lot faster than Newcastle (although its worth noting Newcastle now has CT scanners, so you don’t need to unpack stuff now).
Dubai airport is massive, but I had decided I wanted to try and leave the airport to visit the city proper. After an hour I could not find a way to leave the terminal, eventually I asked someone and I was told to walk round the side of the security. After questioning again I find out they want me to walk back through security the wrong way. Luckily someone else was also doing this so I tailed them and ended up at an immigration desk.
They stamp my passport, but I can’t find the stamp and need to awkwardly walk back and ask if it printed properly. They open my passport and point at it, I awkwardly thank them and cry internally out of awkwardness.
I would love to say Dubai went well… But I couldn’t get my phone working and didn’t want to risk a taxi being more than I had, or not having enough left over to get back. I walk around the car park, buy an unnaturally colored Fanta and headed back through security. Security swabbed me, it was fine and possibly the shortest trip into the UAE in human history was over.
I am confused that the “silent airport” is playing chanting over the speakers during sunrise. I quickly google “Muslim Prayer Times” and mystery solved.
Eventually I start to get panicky that my flight is not on the board, I’m told I need to change terminal and do so on an internal metro system. It is kind of awesome. Skipping ahead I make it onboard my flight and the tracker inside my case gets a ping as being in DBX, so at least its made it this far.
I’m borderline delirious from lack of sleep at this point, but still can’t get my body to sleep on a plane. I also leave the window shade up way too long while flying over a desert and one side of my face turns red.
When we land I buy a sim card in the que for immigration and what a fucking que. About an hour and a half of hardly moving, it didn’t seem like it was taking a massive amount of time to handle each person, but they just sat there between them. Luckily I have a sim card, so am able to read some articles while waiting for the line to subside.
It takes so long to get through security the baggage carrousel has changed to another flight, luckily my case is to the side.
I walk out into the first fresh air in about 17 hours and thankfully my taxi is waiting for me. He guides me through the car park and another car park into a third where his car is waiting. The ride is fine, the culture shock hits me at this point, the adverts and buildings and rats nest cables as scooters fly around him are kind of overwhelming.
I check into my hotel, they ask for my passport and some contact information and tell me I need to check out before 9pm the next night (24h after I arrived). I have made it. I find a bogy on the hand towel in the bathroom. I proceed to crash out.
