My Emirates flight to Dubai was diverted by Iranian missiles

I flew from Mumbai to Dubai on an Emirates repatriation flight, one of several in the past 24 hours and one of the first flights back into the country since the US and Israel attacked Iran over the weekend.

Most flights to the UAE have been grounded, resulting in hundreds of cancellations, thousands of people stranded in and out of the Middle East, and global travel disrupted as the strike in Iran escalates into a larger regional conflict.

But on Monday, Emirates and Etihad announced a reduced number of flights to and from Dubai: domestic flights for Emirati nationals and residents and others to evacuate tourists stranded in the country.

But just 30 minutes into the 3.5-hour journey from Mumbai to Dubai, the captain of the Emirates flight – an Airbus A380, which was only half-full – told passengers that we would have to turn back because of missiles fired by Iran at the UAE.

About 15 minutes later, the captain told the passengers that the airfield had reopened and we were allowed to land in Dubai, where we arrived at an almost empty airport.

The arrivals board was empty, but some passengers could be seen disembarking from flights back to the UK

When the war broke out, I was on holiday in Goa, India with my partner and was supposed to return on Sunday, but our direct flight to the UAE was cancelled. My boss instructed me to go to CNBC’s bureau in Singapore to wait out the conflict and work from there. We left for Goa airport on Monday night to catch a flight to Singapore via Mumbai.

When we arrived at the Mumbai airport, we checked the departure board for our Singapore leg and saw an Emirates flight to Dubai at 2:20am. I was in contact with Emirates, Etihad and Dubai airports over the weekend for my reporting, but I was shocked by the flight. We went to the Emirates desk to find out more.

To my surprise, they told us that we can book flights if we are UAE residents or citizens. They asked us to book on the spot through the airline’s app and show our Emirates ID, which is a national identity card for residents of the country.

We stood at the desk debating whether or not to return to active warfare. I consulted with CNBC’s security team and together, we decided it was best to go home. My team had been on the ground for a few days to report and work from the UAE and I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to go back. My partner and I agreed that we might not get another chance anytime soon.

We boarded a very quiet flight and spoke to other passengers, a mix of Emiratis and expatriates living in Dubai. Many of them had recently tried to travel to Saudi Arabia or Oman, hoping to return to the UAE.

I was told that taxi drivers in Muscat are charging travelers who want to cross the border more than 3,000 dirhams for a four-and-a-half-hour drive, which is just under $200. Most people on board said they were excited to go home, but the mood on the flight was tense.

The plane took off and we fell asleep. It was midnight and I had been working on breaking news for the past three days. Within thirty minutes of landing, the captain woke us all up to tell us that the UAE airspace had closed and the plane had turned back to Mumbai. We were very close.

There was a mixture of silence and shock. I was next to a British woman who said her two young children were in Dubai. She looked at me in despair at the news that she would not see her family.

Through the flight’s WiFi, I learned from my team tracking my flight that a barrage of missiles had been fired in the direction of the UAE. They reported hearing several loud explosions, which the UAE government confirmed were the country’s air defenses intercepting missiles from Iran. I was stumped, and started making plans to go back to my original plan: Singapore.

After about 15 minutes the captain’s voice came back. We were surprised that we were allowed to land in Dubai and we were only an hour away, he said. The entire plane clapped and cheered. I looked at my partner. We both thought: Are we really getting back into ballistic missile range?

As we neared Dubai, I saw from my window the familiar sight of the Persian Gulf, tankers dotted around the UAE coast like tiny stars filled with petroleum.

The crew told me that we were being flown back to UAE airspace by two fighter jets. I couldn’t see anything from my view from my window in the middle seat and, after we landed, Emirates didn’t confirm this to me on the record, saying only that the flight was “diverted in accordance with air traffic control instructions” and “landed safely in Dubai with a delay of one hour.”

It was six o’clock on a Tuesday morning when we landed. The void was a stark reminder of how the country felt during Covid-19. I flew a lot back then and I remember arriving and disembarking at a very empty Dubai airport. The arrivals boards were blank, the baggage claims were still there and the taxi ranks were empty.

It felt good to be home, although it felt like fate and I expected not to be able to return for weeks. To me, for now, the UAE seems safe.