MB is presently trying to depart Doha airport and it’s proving problematic.
A heavy sand storm last night has played merry hell with daily routines. Certainty has jumped out the window. Uncertainty and mayhem reign supreme. MB’s plane, that should have departed Doha approx one hour back, is nowhere to be seen. Air traffic control suspects it’s up there somewhere but can’t be sure. It’s difficult to see through millions of tonnes of airborne sand and dust.
What’s that you say lads? Radar. Radar my ass lads. The big radar dish has stopped spinning and it’s covered in sand. The Qatari kids are presently climbing all over it with buckets and spades and having great fun. The scene reminds MB of a big snowfall back home when everyone runs outside and makes a snowman. Same thing with a sand storm. Only it’s brown. Not white. And the sand is too dry and loose to make a snow/sand man.
Many passengers will now miss connecting flights in Sharjah, our hoped-for destination. There will be lots of weeping and knashing of teeth tonight in Pakistan and Sudan and Afghanistan when daddy does not arrive home with the bag of chocolates. Goats will go unmilked and camels will go hungry. Such is the aftermath of the apocalypse.
Lots of Mohammads and Fatimas are a tad agitated. A few are shouting at airport staff as if the storm was their fault. Maybe it is. You can never be sure with Phillipinos! Anyway, all those training courses the staff took in the early days of their employment are now kicking in as they smile and act all polite during the onslaught of abuse and sword attacks. None seem too badly damaged so one assumes they will be ok after visit to the airport clinic. Inshallah.
Still no sign of that plane landing. Or maybe it did but missed the runway. Or missed the entire country. And now lies somewhere outside the jurisdiction. God knows.
What to do? Not a lot. Time to order MB’s fourth cup of coffee. Hopefully there’s still some in stock.