This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kunal Trehan, a luxury interior designer. It has been edited for length and clarity.
We arrived in Dubai on February 20th to expand our business into the UAE, fully expecting to fly home to the UK on February 28th at 10:20 p.m. local time.
On Saturday, the day we intended to leave, we decided to chill by the beach connected to our hotel. Around midday, we heard what sounded like an explosion — a very faint but deep sound. My partner and I assumed it was demolition until an hour later, when people started messaging me on WhatsApp asking if I was OK. I couldn’t understand what they were worried about.
I quickly opened the Qatar Airways app and saw that our flight had been canceled. I started to freak out a bit, wondering if something was going on and how we would escape.
We heard more explosions
As we sat on the beach, still trying to figure out what was happening and what to do next, we could hear more explosions and see accompanying clouds of smoke in the distance. We rushed inside, with me telling my pragmatic self to stay calm and not to panic.
In the evening, more explosions could be heard. We could see the orange light of missiles racing across the sky. We didn’t know where they were being launched from or who was launching them.
I was getting increasingly nervous after looking at the news and social media online. Hotel staff told guests to come inside from their balconies and close their room curtains. Everyone obeyed.
By this point, the sky had become a large plume of smoke over the Fairmont hotel. In the lobby, people were notably panicked. It felt quite claustrophobic, unsettling.
We got emergency alerts on our phones
At midnight, my partner and I got ready to head to sleep when we heard yet another explosion. We opened our curtains, and it looked as if a missile was headed right towards us. Our phones started alarming with the emergency government message to take shelter. “What the hell do we do?” I asked my partner.
Hotel staff knocked, told us to gather our passports and valuables, and to make our way to the basement. The basement was a concrete-floored area. People were perched on the ground, the elderly in chairs. The staff was doing what they could to calm people and make them as comfortable as possible, providing pillows and blankets.
Even the staff, many of whom are locals, were alarmed. They’ve told us that they haven’t experienced this before. We’ve tried to calm others, to make sure they’re OK.
For three hours, we stayed in the basement, but eventually made our way back to the room as my sciatica was flaring up. We had two hours of sleep in our room before we were woken by another explosion around 9 a.m. on Sunday.
We are advised to stay inside the hotel
The hotel has continued to advise people to stay inside — although we know we aren’t directly being attacked, we are caught in the crossfire of a war, and who knows what could fall from the sky. We’ve followed the advice given to us and done what we can to stay safe.
We’ve asked to move hotel rooms to a first-floor room. If our hotel gets hit, we’d rather be able to get outside quickly. My partner and I keep reminding each other that, for right now, we are relatively safe.
But whereas yesterday, I felt a sense of purpose in helping others, today, I’m feeling very flat. We are incredibly fortunate, yet completely out of control, and have no idea when we will be able to get home.
We are paying $670 a night at the hotel
Fortunately, we have the funds to continue paying for our hotel room, which is about $670 a night, and to eat and buy necessities. Our meal tonight — just mains and water — came to about $120. We haven’t been told that any of this will be reimbursed by our travel insurance company.
Over and over, my partner and I speak of how lucky we are. Lucky that we are safe. Lucky that we have money to stay here. Lucky that we didn’t attempt to go to the airport. And yet, we are still so worried. So many emotions — from fear to gratitude.
Our friends and family are so worried for us — we have had hundreds of messages asking how we are. No matter how much we tell them we are safe, their worry continues, and we can hear it in their message and voice notes.
We are hoping to fly out on Thursday, but nothing is set in stone. Just another thing out of our control for now.
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