Flight Ban

Sometimes it seems like you’re up against the world itself. Two days ago, from out of nowhere, Saudi Arabia decided to ban all flights to UAE and three other nations. This unexpected flight ban, alongside my company’s indifference towards issuing me a re-entry visa, left my family and I in an extraordinarily precarious position. Our long standing booking on an Emirates flight from Dammam to Dubai to Cebu now looked potentially unviable even if my company decided to relent and issue the visa. 

In normal times, a flight ban like this wouldn’t be a major problem. Nor would my final exit visa dilemma, which began 7 days ago. To circumvent the flight ban. we would normally just buy another ticket via Oman, Kuwait, Bahrain, Singapore, Doha, Hong Kong or Turkey. But Philippine covid policy has slowed down flights into Manila and Cebu to a dribble, pushing up one-way economy prices above £8,000 for the three of us using bucket shop agencies. More reliable bookings direct with airlines like Qatar and Philippine Airlines offer scant availability until September. 

Despite the gloom in the air, all hope wasn’t yet lost. In fact, through some hard work on my side and a few unexpected blessings, yesterday put us back in a position to still reach the Philippines on July 8. 

First, I woke up at 2am, called Emirates who agreed to honour our Dubai to Cebu flight segment and simply cancel (without refund) the Dammam to Dubai flight affected by the ban. Flying out of sequence isn’t normally allowed and this took over an hour to negotiate with a very kind Emirates customer service agent. Next, I booked a one-way flight with Gulf Air from Dammam to Dubai via Bahrain to get around the flight ban. Then I chatted to an airside travel service in Dubai, who agreed to retag our bags when we arrived in Dubai (this bit was particularly important because Philippines won’t accept us if we clear immigration in UAE due to their own flight ban). Finally, at 9am I got an email from my company who had decided to issue me a visa subject to a penalty of 3741 Saudi Riyals ($1,000). According to them, this would cover their costs for cancelling my re-entry visa after I left the country. Under a sense of duress, I cycled to work in 45-degree heat to pay the outstanding amount. A visa arrived on my phone soon after. 

In two days, we’re going to escape Saudi Arabia forever. And that’s exactly how it feels: an incredible escape. Living in a country where you can’t leave without your company’s approval (and, in my unique case, a large payment) makes you more like a slave than an employee. On top of that, Saudi had no real reason to cancel outbound travel in terms of containing the dreaded Delta variant. It showed an incredible lack of concern towards passengers like me who are about to leave the country (and obviously pose no health risk to anyone since we’re leaving). I won’t ever return to KSA. After an extended Philippine season, I’ll choose to work in a country with a kinder approach towards its residents.