At the Dubai airport, be careful of the restroom stalls. Some of them do not have toilets in them, but rather, a strange, stainless steel setup where you can crouch. The people that actually use these are few in number, so they are always available. Because they were the only ones that were viewable, I was at first scared that all the stalls were like that. But then I saw that there was a queue for the “real loos” and that those were pretty normal.
Once on the Emirates flight out of Dubai, at certain intervals, the plane’s information screens would show the direction of Mecca in relation to the direction the plane was flying, so you could pray.
Also, it it is interesting to note that on the way into Dubai, the plane routed around Iraq by way of Saudi Arabia and Syria. On the way out, we flew over Iran.
The other thing I found interesting was that the UAE scanned my bags, once, twice, three times. But they weren’t terribly anal about it. Gatwick airport in London, on the other hand, was ridiculous. I got off the plane, walked over a kilometer just to be put on a bus and taken to a place where I have to go through security again, then I go through Continental’s line, then, 20 minutes after that, I finally gain access to the duty-free area where I can finally smoke a cigarette. When I am finally at the gate, to depart for the US, I am again searched, this time even padded down.
Now, to the UK’s credit, The guy that padded me down was a nice old man who regaled me in conversation about a show on BBC2 called Dubai Nights, where they show that Dubai has more money than common sense. I definitely didn’t feel violated by this man, but still — how many friggin’ times have they checked me for contraband?
Oh, and by the way… I got to keep my lighter and matches; no one anywhere else but the US seemed to care.
For some reason you’re reminding me of when I went to the UK with Chris. We were going through security at Gatwick Airport to get our flight from London to Manchester, and I went through with no problems. As I got my bag and walked a few steps, I turned around and was about to say, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” …
… only to see Chris standing back at the security station, arms out, legs spread apart, while three or four security officers patted him down and ran the X-ray wand over him. When they finally let him go on, he was NOT a happy camper. When we walked to the plane he bitched about it, but I managed to calm him down by reminding him that A) it was likely a random search, and B) the IRA were working in full force at that point in time.
Haven’t had any real notable airport security stories since.