Kuwait - Home

As we go for breakfast, we ask the receptionist to order a taxi for us, and for the porters to bring the cases from the room. By the time we get down to the lobby, the bags are already in the taxi.

Kuwait Airport

Just inside the door is a small information desk, where we ask for a wheelchair. We are asked to “sit down”, and two minutes later a chair and porter arrive, and take us to the check-in area, through immigration and security to the gate area.

At the gate

sign in the airport toilets

Several wheelchairs board the aircraft first, and the service we receive here from the porters and staff is second to none.

Kuwait Airlines flight to London

The aircraft is spacious, with plenty of legroom – not once do my knees touch the seat in front of me. I spend the time (it’s a six-hour, 40-minute flight) watching a film (Shotgun Wedding – good fun), snoozing, and eating – we are served pepper chicken with cream sauce and mashed potato (very nice, quite peppery).

Heathrow

A wheelchair is waiting for me at the door, which takes me up to a waiting buggy at the top of the ramp. David is not allowed to accompany me on the buggy (which he always has previously), despite there being an empty seat next to me. The buggy takes me to a holding area next to immigration, where there are lots of unhappy people having waited for over an hour for a wheelchair to take them through. The American lady next to me has a taxi waiting outside, which is racking up extra costs on the meter as well as parking charges. Seeing that the queue for Special Passengers going through immigration is not that long, rather than hang around waiting for a chair, I walk. There are only half a dozen or so wheelchairs in front of me in the queue, so it should go reasonably quickly (my arthritis does not like me standing still for any period of time).

Not so. First, a Middle Eastern family with what looks like the grandmother in a wheelchair is stopped at the desk, and they take an age to go through. Next a paramedic with a patient is let through (quite rightly), and the Immigration Holding Centre for those who have been taken aside for extra questioning is right down this end too, so they also jump the queue. Then one of the officials goes to lunch / coffee / toilet or whatever, leaving just one desk open. After a lot of grumbling by the waiting passengers, another two positions are opened, which thankfully speeds things up.

When it is my turn, the immigration officer is all smiles and friendliness, takes my passport, scans it, and hands it back. Ten seconds.

Meanwhile, David is wondering what has happened to me, having already collected the luggage. He doesn’t want to ring me, as phones are strictly prohibited in the immigration area. We finally meet up and make our way to the car park. No car (we have booked meet-and-greet parking). After what seems like an eternity, David calls them, only to be told that the car has been here all along – at the other end of the car park. All that remains is to drive home.

And so ends our amazing eight-week Grand South East Asia trip, arranged by Undiscovered Destinations.