My Biggest Travel Mistake

BY ONEIKA RAYMOND

I pride myself on being an astute traveller. I navigate new countries with ease, despite being unwieldy with a map.  I usually find the cheapest flight tickets and can craft an itinerary out of thin air. After travelling to far-flung places I now even know the most difficult airport codes on sight: to wit, DPS (that’s the code for Bali, folks) to GEG ( that’s the airport in Spokane, Washington, where I spent a few weeks last year).  But, alas, I am human. And sometimes I mess up when it comes to travelling. Sometimes I mess up LARGE. 

My biggest travel mistake

So what was my biggest travel mistake?  Let’s play a bit of a guessing game:

a) My biggest travel mistake is one I can now laugh at, though at the time it made me cry big, fat tears and left me sleepless for two nights.

b) My biggest travel mistake threw an unexpected wrench in my travel plans and fixing the mistake cost me A LOT of money.

c) My biggest travel mistake was so embarrassing to me that when it happened I didn’t tell anyone but Liebling and didn’t answer phone calls, didn’t respond to messages, and avoided all social media until the situation was rectified.

d) My biggest travel mistake even tops the time I missed my flight to Berlin because of delays on the London Tube.

e) My biggest travel mistake happened last February and involved my trip to Dubai.


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Can you guess what happened?

Ahem… well. As it so happens, since January 2nd, 2011, Canadians need an entry visa prior to arrival in the United Arab Emirates.  Oneika did not have an entry visa prior to arrival in the United Arab Emirates. And therefore Oneika was not allowed to board the plane to the United Arab Emirates.

*bangs head against desk*

Oneika went to airport check-in at London Heathrow, had her passport checked, and then was asked the question that will haunt her for the rest of her days: “Excuse me madame, where is your visa?” 

The visa dilemma

I remember that Liebling and I looked at each other, incredulous. What visa?!? My Lonely Planet guide never said I needed a tourist visa, and I could have SWORN that I checked online and seen that I indeed DID NOT need a travel document other than my trusty passport to enter.

But apparently I was wrong… so so wrong.  After a bit of back and forth with the women at check-in (who even called a senior manager from another department over so she could be sure, bless her) as to whether or not I needed a tourist visa, it was determined that I did and that I would not be able to board the plane without one. But Liebling? As a German national with a German reisepass, he was free to run off to the UAE with reckless abandon. Which he didn’t of course.  Which meant that instead of just ruining my vacation, I ruined his as well.

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Just to put things into context for you, all this occurred Friday evening.  The UAE consulate in London (where I  would presumably be able to procure this tourist visa) is closed Saturday and Sunday.  MONDAY was the soonest I would be able to talk to someone at the consulate about getting a visa, and there was no guarantee that they would even grant me an emergency/rush visa on the same day.  Our stay is Dubai was only supposed to be a week long, so getting a visa on say, Wednesday and flying out on a Thursday, only to have to return to London two days later was a virtual impossibility.  Our vacay was ruined.

I was gobsmacked at my stupidity and naivety.  Hot tears of shame clouded my vision as we descended into the bowels of the airport so Liebling could retrieve his already checked-in luggage.  I felt sick on the long, long tube ride back to our flat, shaky and desperate.  Liebling, for his part, was deflated, but so lovely about the whole thing- he never cursed my boneheadedness and provided me with hugs and back rubs even though he was gravely disappointed.

A night of agony and a solution

When I got home I got on the internet and called every British, Canadian, and Emirati govermmental office I could find the number for, hoping for a solution… but to no avail.

I spent a night of fitful sleep and woke up at 5am drenched in sour smelling sweat. I couldn’t believe I had messed up so royally.  My body ached from being wound up tight as an elastic band, and I felt depressed and guilty for drawing Liebling into my manic web of travel misfortune.  Regrouping my efforts, I got back onto the computer and frantically began to search for ways to procure an emergency visa.

And then I spotted it: a slight dodgy looking website that promised they could issue an entry visa to Dubai within 36 hours.  It didn’t matter that the website was suspiciously non-descript, that the English was riddled with grammatical errors. It didn’t matter that an emergency rush visa would run me $585  USD (the tourist visa for Canadians only costs $250 USD) and that I was unsure whether it was a scam. I called the number provided, talked to the employee, handed over my credit card number.

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And then Liebling and I waited. It was tortuous. But then… 30 hours later on Sunday afternoon, I received an email… with my visa documentation! Within two hours we were at the airport and standing by for another flight to Dubai. We finally got there- two days after our scheduled arrival.

What’s your biggest travel blunder?

 

SHARING IS CARING

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