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“Sir,
I can confirm you on a seat travelling to London April 29th, assuming

the volcano stops erupting,” Anne from Emirates airlines told me over

the phone. That was twelve days from now. A group of five of us had been

camping out in my room at the Millennium hotel in Sharjah, UAE for

several hours now brainstorming other ways to travel to the gay and

lesbian travel destination of London. The notion of flying directly to

Europe’s busiest airport in the face of such obstacles as an Icelandic

volcano spewing ashing across most of the Continent seemed grim. “I

know! We could take the Orient Express! Or maybe go to Africa then ride

camels across the Sahara, cross the Strait of Gibraltar then travel

north through Spain and France to the shores of Calais, where we can

hitch our way across the Channel with some truck drivers.” My new

friends all began to laugh hysterically; “Yeah, like we’d ever have to

do all of that.”

It’s
now seven hours later and we’ve turned my Dubai friend’s office into a

situation room. Emirates is on speaker phone, the “hold” music offering

an incessantly irritating background to the chaos that has ensued. One

of my compatriots else is coordinating with a few others still at the

hotel. Pat, our host, is handing out apple cobbler and ice cream to keep

us going. I’m on the computer confirming flights to Tunisia then onward

to Barcelona, creating a 21st

Century version of camels across Africa and ferries to cross the Strait

of Gibraltar. The fastest way to travel to London is via Africa.

“Yes,
you’ll be refunded Dubai to London,” we’re told. Knowing that, we book

Dubai to Tunisia over the phone, simultaneously click “buy now” on the

connecting Tunisia to Barcelona flights and we’re at least on the

Continent. Praise to technology. After two days of watching the hot

Arabian sun rise and set over the artificial expanses of Sharjah with

zero information as to what was happening on the outside, we’re all

desperate just to feel like we’re moving. I’m tired of eating hummus for

breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There is a public stoning of a woman

tomorrow that has been suggested as a tourist activity. It is time to

go.

Travel
to Europe booked, we get in taxis and head back to the hotel. The next

challenge is getting from Barcelona to Madrid and from Madrid to London.

The new challenge is booking a train from Barcelona to Madrid then a

bus from Madrid to London. The Spanish websites don’t want to let us

book a train to Madrid and they are totally against us travelling by bus

from Madrid to London. Damn you, technology. A quick glance at the

clock alerts us that it’s 3am. We have to be up and out the door by 6am

to make our flight to Tunisia. What should take five minutes has now

dragged on for three hours. It has been us against the mighty Emirati

firewall, but nothing will keep us from London.

I
bring in reinforcements, Skyping a friend in London who then g-chats

with a friend in Barcelona who then wakes up her Spanish boyfriend who

then calls the bus company in an attempt to make a booking. He relays

info to his girlfriend, she sends it to London, and London gets it to us

over Skype. It is inefficient and annoying, but for once I have to

thank globalization and social networking. Unfortunately, even the

combined forces we’ve mustered can’t confirm any travel in Spain. We

will have to figure out once we’re on the ground in Europe.

Now
it’s 5am. Time to take a shower and pack for the airport. No matter

what, we’re on a plane to Africa by lunchtime. One step closer to gay and lesbian travel destination London.

After extensive conversation, we agreed that renting a car was the most cost-effective and timely way to get back to the gay destination of London. Unfortunately, every car in Europcar’s Northern European fleet is booked. EVERY SINGLE RENTAL CAR IN EUROPE IS BOOKED. The only hope is a cancellation or an early return. Hertz does have one vehicle that needs to be “taken home to France,” but the computer will not allow the employee to rent it until 7am. “Come back then and if you’re lucky, it will still be here.” Alas, once again, the computer wins in Europe.

Europcar is a flat out no. Avis has a sign up that says, “you’ve got to be kidding if you think we have cars available. Go away.” That was the gist, anyway. Just as we’re about to head to our hostel in a taxi, The Hertz guy waves me over from the other side of the terminal. I sprint at top speed to his counter, where he tells me they have a small compact car that was cancelled on the phone minutes earlier. We have five people and five large bags, but it has wheels and an engine, so we’re checking price. What might you guess Hertz charges for a car in times of crisis? $1200 per day? That’s right, TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR ONE DAY.

Fortunately, Charlie decides to make one last check with the other companies. Somehow National Car Rental emerges with a Citroen C4 5-door, which is still a compact car, but not quite as tiny. The price? It is just $400 including full insurance and 750 kilometers. Oh and $60 per day plus another $280 to return to a different location. I guess it’s not totally unreasonable. The important part is we’ve got wheels.

Thirty minutes later we’re struggling to close the trunk while duffel bags and pillows are piled shoulder-high on every passenger but the driver. We’re in, but just barely. A small part of me wonders if we wouldn’t be better off if we were still in Dubai. But, wait, they are still stuck in the hotel paying $160 per night to “wait it out.”

The first part of the final leg begins NOW. We just need to make it 1000 miles in 12 hours From Barcelona to Calais via Paris. Getting to the gay and lesbian travel hub of London is too easy. BRING IT ON!!!