Crazy at the Airport
An Adventure A Week
I’m on my 2-hour flight from Salalah, Oman, to Dubai. And there’s a mentally ill man on board my plane. This mentally unstable person is at least 6’8”. A big dude.
I’m flying FlyDubai, a small regional airline, with only one aisle, which our friend continues to run up and down at full speed.
His mother is trying to control him to no avail. Mainly, she is just throwing up her arms and wailing. At one point, the man literally pushes his mother as he flies up the aisle, and she falls down between the seats in front of me.
I’m incredulous at all that’s going on, wondering why this guy isn’t medicated or restrained. And why did they even let him on the flight in the first place? The stewards were not much help either.
A couple of others are looking around; they’re probably afraid, like I am, that he’s going to try to open the airplane doors.
I ask my seatmate what’s going on, and he says there was an announcement before we boarded the flight that this person would be on board. But it must’ve only been in Arabic, because I didn’t hear it. I did notice he got a special escort onto the plane at the gate.
Finally, the plane lands, but the big dude is not in his seat. Instead, he’s raiding the pantry and passing out water to everyone. He then flits up to first class and proceeds to block our exit.
We all stand patiently while one of the stewards gets him to take a seat in first class. He stretches out his legs and giggles to himself. (He is childlike and a mite endearing, actually.)
Because it’s a small plane, there’s no gangway. Instead, the plane is parked out on the tarmac. They wheel us up a flight of stairs so we can disembark, with a bus at the bottom to take us to the terminal.
Now we’re all on the bus except for our friend and his mother. We see him dancing at the top of the stairs, then darting back into the plane, then returning for another little wiggle. His mother, the stewards, and several passengers on the bus are waving at him to get on board.
Finally, he starts descending the stairs. But when he reaches the bottom, he takes off like a bat outta hell, running circles around the bus. The security guard, who was only steps away, gives chase. Round and round they go. (It is almost comical at this point, very 3 Stooges.)
Suddenly, our friend breaks away, streaking into the dark night. Across an active tarmac. At Dubai airport, one of the busiest in the world. Security is yelling for him to come back. The stewards are waving their arms frantically. We lose sight of him.
Just then, a large plane rolls past us, because, you know, active runway. The plane separates us from our friend, who is now lost in the night. The rest of the passengers and I watch, dumbfounded.
As the plane clears our sight, I see him far on the other side, his white jellaba robe picking up the moonlight and reflecting in the night sky. He has his hood on and he’s dancing a jig.
Finally, he comes streaking back to us. His mother coaxes him into the waiting bus with some candy. I’m sitting across from him, watching him munch away while his mother is looking for his hand restraints. (A little late, I might add). She can’t find them. Then she praises Allah for watching over us.
Our friend, who does not like to sit still, begins pounding on the window with his fists and bellowing as we make our way from the tarmac to Terminal 2. At which point, someone says loudly: “Maybe he shouldn’t have any more sugar.” Which, honestly, was pretty funny.
So we arrive at Terminal 2, and I need to catch a shuttle bus to Terminal 3 – another 30-minute ride. I have a very tight connection and impatiently ride this second bus. As soon as the shuttle arrives, I start booking to my gate. I hear the final call. Now, I’m the one running like a banshee, dragging my bags behind me (carry-on only, y’all!).
I arrive at the gate, but they won’t let me on. I’m a few minutes too late. I missed my flight and now need to buy another ticket for my Dubai-Bangkok leg. (My second one in 4 hours – I’m bleeding money here.)
I get online and find another flight that leaves in a few hours. But this flight leaves from Terminal 1, not Terminal 3. I reckon, I now have some time, so I’ve decide to return to the scene of mayhem – Terminal 2 – and file an incident report, which I’ll need to get a refund for my first ticket. I missed my flight due to extraordinary circumstances after all.
Another 30-minute shuttle ride, and I make my way to the complaint desk. I tell this story to the agent behind the desk. She just looks at me. I was like, didn’t anybody report this? She said *if* it happened and security was involved, the guard would have filed a report.
But I’m not so sure about that. The guard’s one job was to get all passengers the 20 steps from the bottom of the stairs onto the waiting bus. But one got away and almost got squashed by an outbound aircraft. So, not holding my breath that the security guard reported the incident. No one likes being fired after all.
The woman behind the desk prints out my new board pass and gets her manager, who comes around the desk and – I kid you not – takes me by the arm and leads me away. Like I’m the crazy one. (In truth, I might have been a little agitated myself.)
The manager proceeds to walk me to the shuttle bus holding area – gently steering me by the elbow the whole time – and tells the gate agent to put me on yet another 30-minute shuttle bus ride to Terminal 1 to catch my second flight. Oh yeah, she also gives me an email address to file my incident report online.
Moral of the story. Avoid Dubai Airport. And the 6’8” man in the white robe dancing a jig.
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Christened “Wander Woman” by National Geographic, Erin Michelson has traveled to 130+ countries & all 7 continents. She is a professional speaker and author of the Nomad Life™ series of curated trips and travel guides, including the #1-ranked Explore the World with Nomads.
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Thats so disturbing Erin. I'm sure you were very unsettled by all that, bizarre that that friend was deemed capable to travel without an escort that could control him. His poor mom. And poor you and the rest of the passengers. Glad no serious damage was done. I hope that maybe someone at the airlines gets back to you.
🛬 Follow-up: I reported the incident to FlyDubai at the email address provided, but the representative stated I’m not entitled to compensation because the flight did not arrive late. I also reported the incident to Dubai Airport, which said they are not responsible and I need to contact the airline. I now have a claim with Emirates Airlines, the parent company of FlyDubai. I'm waiting to hear back.