Driving through the desert deluge

My wife and I returned from Dubai on April 19 at the end of a month’s vacation with my son and family. This sounds like a routine statement. Let me rewind to April 16. Our bags were packed and we were ready to head out to the airport for our 9.20 pm Emirates flight to Bengaluru. Over the previous day, there was intermittent light drizzle. Nothing alarming. We were good to go.

Then the sound and light show began. Thundershowers interspersed with lightning. I sat on our patio enjoying the rain and even sent a “wish you were here” WhatsApp messages to my friends in Bengaluru suffering in the sweltering heat. Towels were brought out and spread on the floor as rainwater began seeping into the house through the window frames. Buckets were strategically placed to catch water dripping in through the air-conditioning vents. Mops came out of the utility room and put to use. 

I still had hope of catching the flight presuming the storm would weaken by evening. I over-rode any doubts from family members. We decided to head out to the airport a little early. As we drove out of the exit of our gated community it was a different world altogether. One of the main roads was water-logged and blocked. Google gave us a longer alternative route. The water level on the road seemed to rise, but it was not alarming. My wife suggested returning home. She was overruled.

The storm intensity increased. The main roads seemed okay but the exit roads and low-level areas were already dotted with stranded cars. We were about 3 km from the airport when we realised that going ahead was fraught with danger. Apart from the high-intensity rain, the splashing water from the wheels was reaching the windscreen. My son decided to turn around.

Normally it takes less than half-hour to reach the airport from my son’s house. Our return journey took over two hours. At one point the engine stalled. We imagined the worst. Our online technical support, my 13-year-old grandson, advised us to switch off the engine and wait for a few minutes. It worked. At one stretch, which was normally four minutes from home, we were caught in a traffic jam for more than an hour. Luckily our SUV had large tyres and managed through the flood. It was a pitiable sight to see high-end sedans abandoned with water almost up to the window frame. We finally reached home like weary warriors from the battlefield.

Meanwhile, we managed to rebook our flight for April 18. That was another saga. At the airport, it took us over two hours just to check in. The flight took off eight hours late.

We landed in Bengaluru and presumed we had come to the end of our ordeal. No, Dubai was reluctant to let us go.

At the baggage belt area, we were told that the airline had not loaded any of the passengers’ baggage on the aircraft.