Stranded Outside of Israel and my Journey Home

I travel frequently for work. Every 6-8 weeks, I leave my home and family in Israel to travel to the UK (and occasionally other locations). Shortly after Shavuot, I embarked on what I thought would be a regular 4-day work trip to meet with FZY’s incoming movement team and complete the final preparations for summer activities. Little did I know that my return to Israel would be fraught with so many challenges.

I left FZY’s office at 5pm on Thursday, 12th June as planned to head to Luton Airport and catch my return flight to Israel. The plane was on time, and everything was going according to schedule. After around four hours of the flight, the crew announced we were beginning our descent into Israel and instructed passengers to prepare for landing.

Ten minutes later, everything changed. The pilot announced that Ben Gurion Airport and Israeli airspace had been closed. No explanation was given, and our flight was diverted to Paphos, Cyprus. Passengers—mainly Israeli residents—were visibly anxious. Speculation about an Israeli strike on Iranian nuclear sites and the possibility of retaliation spread rapidly through the cabin.

Upon landing in Paphos, we were finally able to use our phones. I couldn’t connect to roaming data, so I relied on fellow passengers to understand what had happened. News confirmed that Israel had attacked Iranian military infrastructure. The airspace was closed as a precaution, and many of us were effectively stranded.

Communication with my family was difficult. I couldn’t reach my wife or daughters until I realised that SMS still worked. At 4am, I finally reached my wife, who earlier that night had been at a Bar Mitzvah, so our daughters were sleeping at a friends’ house. We agreed that she would bring them home when they woke up so they could be together in case of further escalation.

We remained on the plane for several hours with minimal updates. Eventually, we were told the flight had been terminated in Paphos. We were on our own for accommodation, travel, and food. The airport was overwhelmed by diverted flights, and it took two hours for our bags to arrive. During that time, I connected to Wi-Fi and began coordinating both personal and professional responsibilities. I set up a makeshift office near a rare plug socket to manage the unfolding crisis for myself and for FZY, with Israel Tour due to bring over 400 participants in three weeks.

I initially booked a hotel in Larnaca, thinking it would offer better travel options. But I was concerned that it could be days before Israel reopened its airspace. I contacted FZY’s travel agent and secured a flight back to London, which was set to leave in four hours. After struggling to find a taxi willing to accept card payment (most demanded cash and ATMs were empty), I found one—at a premium price—and made the 90-minute journey.

I reached Larnaca Airport just in time. On this journey back to the UK, I kept in touch with my family and briefed the FZY team. I also managed a few minutes of sleep, having been awake the entire night. Landing in the UK, I spoke to my family again, just as Iran launched its retaliatory attack. Watching the missile attack unfold from afar whilst on the Gatwick Express was distressing. My eldest daughter hung up during a video call out of fear. Not being able to hold her in that moment was one of the hardest parts of the ordeal.

Over the following days, I tracked every siren in Modi’in and checked in with my family constantly. Every delay in response felt agonising. I was desperate to return home.

On Monday, Israel launched a repatriation process. I joined an online queue with over 52,000 people in it at the time of me joining to register for a return flight. The system said it would take three hours to confirm registration for a repatriation flight—I waited almost eight. On Tuesday, El Al announced six repatriation flights from Europe the following day. London wasn’t included. On Wednesday, they added eight more flights for Thursday, including one from London. I remained hopeful but wasn’t notified until 6pm (Israel time) that I was on the flight.

We kept this news from our daughters in case something disrupted the plans again. The airport experience was chaotic—delays, confusion, and many suitcases, including mine, not loaded onto the flight. But we were on our way home, and nothing could dampen my spirits.

Landing at Ben Gurion Airport was surreal. The airport was a ghost town. No passengers, minimal staff, and no vehicles allowed into the airport grounds. I took a scaled-down train service, waiting for 50 minutes before finally heading home.

My wife and I decided to surprise our daughters. While waiting at the airport, I video-called them, pretending to still be in the UK. About an hour later, I rang the doorbell. Their joy and shock when they saw me was unforgettable.

Reunited with my family

Now back in Israel, I’ve already been in the safe room several times due to missile alerts. Although I’m in more physical danger, I feel relief and deep gratitude to be home with my family. Many of my fellow passengers are still stranded in Paphos or elsewhere in Cyprus, facing mounting costs and stress. I hope they too get to feel the joy and relief that I felt upon finally coming home.