Slamming trip!

This week’s TravelWeekly report should have been quite simple, I even had the first paragraph written in my mind which went something like an old Jackson Five hit … it’s easy as A, B, C … Abu Dhabi, Bahrain for a Cracking day out, writes Stan Szecowka.

As with all well laid plans you have to put the ‘oh dear, did I really miss the plane home’ factor into the equation.

It’s not the first time this intrepid travel writer has missed his flight and no doubt it will not be the last but the original plan was to tell readers that they could have a great day visiting our neighbouring state for a show and return home on the same night.

Stupid really, of course you can’t. But I thought I’d give it a try in any case as I’d set up a surprise ninth birthday present for my son, little Stan – a trip to watch his WWE Raw World Tour heroes on their first visit to the Gulf live at Zayed Sports City International Tennis Complex.

The three-day event had been advertised mercilessly for months on OSN and Stan catches the action as he’s putting on his school uniform each morning.

We didn’t tell him he was going until the night before Friday’s trip and I’d worked out a perfect plan of action. To start with we would catch the Gulf Air 10.50am flight and get to our destination just before 1pm UAE time.

We arrived at Bahrain International Airport in plenty of time, checked out the rather swish newly-upgraded Gulf Air lounge (we normally use the privilege card to get into the Dilmun Lounge) and the birthday treat started off in spectacular fashion as the boy got down to some serious gaming in the family lounge, watched by a couple of cheerful child-minders, as I tucked into scrambled egg on toast.

We arrived at Abu Dhabi as planned, merrily made our way via the underpass to the waiting taxi queue and met Abdul, a newly-recruited taxi driver starting his first week on the job who rang his Pakistani friend for directions to the venue where the wrestling was later to be staged.

We grabbed some lunch at the centre’s smart café and a free game of pool before having a look round the facility and finding a local rugby match being played outside between Abu Dhabi Harlequins and Jebel Ali Dragons.

It was a cracking game narrowly won by the home side thanks to a blistering display by an 18-year-old scrumhalf from South Africa. Bahrain Rugby Club had better watch out for him when they take on the Quins this season.

Before we knew it the gates were opening for the wrestling and the event was attracting so many fans the organisers were putting out extra seats.

We were stood by a couple of crazy American expat school teachers who turned out to be WWE fanatics and the loudest cheer leaders in the 5,000-plus capacity crowd. I still have the battle between star wrestler John Cena’s supporters and his detractors ringing in my ears … ‘let’s go Cena, let’s go!’ to the less challenging chant of ‘Cena sucks!’

WWE is like a gripping soap opera and one of the biggest storylines currently running involves a large degree of antagonism between world champion CM Punk and the sport’s administrator John Laurinaitis, with all sorts of skullduggery being played out to ensure he relinquishes the title sooner rather than later.

It’s like panto with beefcake and nothing like the wrestling I enjoyed as a child watching my mum’s delight as Mick McManus defeated Kendo Nagasaki in black and white on the living room box on a Saturday afternoon.

The organisers know how to work an audience. Just as the interval was called news was announced that Cena had personally signed a few photographs which were available from the merchandising stalls surrounding the arena which led to a stampede for T-shirts, hats and programmes … as for signed photographs, they had been snapped up well before we had even reached the steps.

But the show was, despite tickets being priced from around BD30 to BD120, great value for money – adored by little Stan and the army of fans of all ages – although it did run on longer than I had predicted.

By the time we headed for the airport is was nearly 10pm and the flight was set to take-off at 11.10pm. Abdul, our taxi driver had failed to appear for the return trip as promised, but we bumped into a delightful couple of his compatriots in the car park whilst looking for a taxi who offered to take us to the airport.

The gentleman was studying for a master’s degree at one of the universities in Abu Dhabi and was delighted to discuss the recent Pakistani cricket victory in the region with someone from England, and made it to the airport in less than half-an-hour.

But despite his efforts, we missed the flight home and had to rebook our Gulf Air tickets for the 8am flight the following morning – fortunately there were two seats still available.

By this time little Stan was exhausted and we settled down on an uncomfortable chair in departures which soon became the scene of a series of soap operas too.

One young woman was crying so loudly and uncontrollably as she appeared to be saying farewell to her parents that I started welling up too. I never realised what a depressing place the departures area can be.

I carried Stan along to the arrivals section, found a couple of comfortable armchairs. The atmosphere was transformed. So much more pleasant – people were so happy and those greeting relatives only had tears of joy.

Would I come again, you bet … but next time I’ll book an overnight stay in a hotel.