Simona Musu and Dean Scheepers could barely contain their excitement when they arrived at the Maldives’ Malé-Velana International Airport on February 22.

The couple, who are from South Africa and live in Amsterdam, had traveled to the island country for a special occasion: to exchange marital vows in an intimate beach ceremony, a precursor to their courthouse wedding planned for later this summer.

“We were on cloud nine,” Musu tells CNN Travel. “We felt so glamorous. We went straight from the airport, and there was someone standing with our names on a sign who took us to the seaplane and then to our resort.”

A week later, the couple returned to the airport. But this time, their mood was far more grim. Their flights back to the Netherlands the day prior, along with thousands of others all over the globe, had been canceled following the February 28 strikes by the US and Israel on Iran, putting the couple among tens of thousands of stranded travelers.

The following Monday, at least a hundred of them packed Malé, as the airport is commonly known, charging phones, tending to young children and sleeping in any available space. “No one looked like they just had a vacation on an island,” Scheepers says.

He and Musu were In a state of shock themselves, having just returned from their luxurious week at an all-inclusive, five-star property — the highlight of which was their wedding ceremony on the resort’s private white-sand beach, complete with Maldivian drummers and a walkway full of rose petals and vibrant pink blooms.

Instead of heading back to Amsterdam, where a group of family and friends was waiting to celebrate with them, Musu and Scheepers were facing a far less pleasant scenario: no place to stay, no options for upcoming flights and no idea when — or how — they would return home.

“The whole week we had at the resort was incredible,” Musu says. “The wedding day was just perfect, beautiful, everything went to plan. From there on, downhill. It’s been an absolute nightmare.”

‘Everything goes so fast’

Two weeks after the conflict started, global air travel — and the tourism industry it propels — remains highly disrupted, marking the worst travel crisis since the Covid-19 pandemic.

According to data from aviation analysts Cirium received by CNN on March 13, around 52,000 flights have been canceled in the Middle East region since the strikes began, affecting around six million passengers. Despite the ongoing uncertainty, some airports have resumed operations, including Dubai, Abu Dhabi and King Khalid International near Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

Prior to the crisis, the Middle East had established itself as a key region in global aviation, fueled by the growing influence of prominent Gulf hubs including Dubai, Emirates’ home base, Abu Dhabi (home to Etihad) and Doha, Qatar Airways’ hub. According to data from Cirium, approximately one in five passengers travelling between Europe and Asia-Pacific in 2025 flew on Middle Eastern carriers. Regional airlines were expected to carry around 240 million passengers in 2026, according to the International Air Transport Association.

But the immediate future looks far more uncertain, with many airlines still struggling to manage cancellations and stranded travelers. Qatar Airways has been among the hardest-hit: According to data from flight tracker FlightAware, between 69 and 81% of the carrier’s flights were canceled daily from March 7 through 11 for a total of 2,185 cancellations.

That’s a pattern Musu and Scheepers experienced firsthand. Their flights were rescheduled then canceled for a total of five times, twisting their originally blissful trip into an “extended honeymoon disaster” that has stretched to almost three weeks — nearly three times longer than they planned to spend in the Maldives, Musu says.

They have logged hours online every day, scouring the Internet and messaging airline customer service, trying to find alternate solutions. Some options are sky-high — more than $3,000 for a one-way ticket — while others come with brutal travel times, like one route Musu found with multiple connections over a whopping 56 hours.

Further complicating the challenge is the issue of visas, which are required by countries including China and India on various flight paths in the severely restricted airspace. The complexity of the aviation landscape is further compounded by Russia’s ongoing war in Ukraine.

Even two weeks after the joint US/Israel strikes started, competition remains incredibly fierce for flights. “Everything goes so fast,” Scheepers says. “Even when we spot tickets, they’re gone in a couple of seconds.”

Several countries, including the Maldives, have organized repatriation flights — but the couple has had no luck with those, either. Musu has Italian citizenship through her parents, and her mother contacted Italy’s embassy in South Africa to see if the couple could be booked, along with other Italians, on a flight from the Maldives to Rome that Musu was aware of. But the request was “declined,” Musu says, noting that Scheepers, who isn’t an Italian citizen, wouldn’t have been eligible anyway.

While there have been repatriation flights organized for South Africans, the couple did not pursue that avenue, being unsure of whether the government could — or would — assist in evacuating two citizens who live outside outside the country.

Instead, the couple has focused efforts on their flight search, also enlisting family and friends in the process. “They ask every day how we are, what we’re doing, and if we’re ok,” Musu says, noting that the longer they remained in the Maldives, the more concerned their loved ones became. “Now, they’re like, ‘this is serious, you’re not coming back yet.’”

A windowless room and other challenges

Along with constantly monitoring airline and flight tracking websites and news outlets, Musu and Scheepers have kept close track of their out-of-pocket expenses. They did not purchase a standalone travel insurance policy and are hoping the insurance provided by the American Express credit card they used to book their trip can cover at least some of the approximately $5,800-$7,000 of additional expenses they’ve incurred beyond their initial stay at the resort.

The couple stayed one additional night at their original resort after management offered guests affected by cancellations a 50% discount from the regular rate of about $1,500. But they could not afford to stay there indefinitely, so they took the advice of a waiter to move to another island called Maafushi, with multiple options for more affordable hotels.

After a seaplane flight back to Malé en route to Maafushi, they used the airport’s Wi-Fi to book a hotel. Musu recalls the near-palpable levels of collective stress among fellow stranded passengers. “You could feel the panic in the air,” she says, noting her own frantic moment when she thought her bag was missing, before realizing, “I was carrying it the whole time.”

The couple estimates that hundreds of other travelers have been stranded in the Maldives.

Since arriving on Maafushi nearly two weeks ago, the couple has stayed at three hotels — including one so full that their only option was a drab, windowless room that felt “like being in a prison,” as Musu describes it.

Determined to find better digs, Musu walked around the island and inquired at multiple properties until she discovered their home base until March 13: a “comfortable, clean” beachfront hotel for about $200 per night, she says. With each flight cancellation, staff have accommodated the couple in extending their stay.

Days settled into a predictable rhythm. Scheepers would wake up first, around 6 a.m., and spend a few hours searching for flights and checking the news. After breakfast, Musu took over the search while Scheepers turned his attention to his job working in the finance department of an insurance company. He’s grateful he brought his laptop and to have a “really understanding” boss, he says.

Like Scheepers, Musu is thankful her boss has been supportive and understanding of her circumstances. But she’s desperate to be back in the classroom — just like two other teachers she met in the Maldives, who are from Slovenia. “We feel extra pressure to be in person with our jobs,” Musu says. “That’s what comes with the job. I really miss my students and colleagues.”

The couple estimates there are hundreds of other stranded travelers in the Maldives, many from Europe. They say they’ve met at least a dozen — including a French family with a toddler, a German woman who’s a high-ranking Apple executive and two backpackers from the UK and Ireland — and stay in constant contact with several, sharing travel tips and updates in WhatsApp groups.

“Immediately when you hear their accent, or (understand) their language, you ask, ‘How are you getting back?’,” says Musu, who is proficient in Dutch. “Then you swap numbers and you get a community going.”

Staying positive

As their Maldivian journey has dragged on, Musu and Scheepers have tried to maintain a positive attitude. They’re grateful that, unlike so many other travelers, they haven’t been trapped in a war zone or been stuck indefinitely at an airport, and that they have the funds to cover hotels and meals.

The sunny tropical weather is another bonus: “I’m definitely very bronzed,” Musu says with a chuckle.

However, she doesn’t hesitate to correct people who assume they’re living the carefree island life, kicking back with beachfront daiquiris all day. First of all, as a Maldivian island, Maafushi is Muslim — and alcohol is strictly prohibited.

“I actually cut them off and say directly, ‘It’s not as delightful as it seems,’” Musu says. “It’s stressful and uncertain. But we’re making the most of it.”

In some ways, the ordeal has strengthened the couple’s bond. “I don’t know how I would have gone through this without him,” Musu says. “I would have been freaking out. We really balance each other out.”

The experience also has inspired reflection on their shared South African roots — specifically, on the African cultural concept of Ubuntu, an ancient term that roughly translates to “shared humanity” and evokes a spirit of helping others.

“In South Africa, people are helpful and there’s a strong sense of community,” Scheepers says. “South Africans always try to see the positive, and we’ve tried to bring that with us.”

About two weeks after the couple’s trip took its unexpected turn, their persistence appears to have paid off. Late last week, following a tip from a Dutch family about possible availability on Saudi Arabia’s flag carrier, Saudia, Scheepers quickly checked the website — only to find no availability. But they continued to constantly monitor, and one recent morning at breakfast, Musu could barely believe her eyes when she saw two seats available on a flight scheduled for March 13.

She quickly snagged them for about $980 per ticket as a backup to their Qatar flight back to the Netherlands, which had been rescheduled for later in the week but, as of Tuesday, was canceled for the fifth time.

On Wednesday afternoon, Musu successfully checked in for their Saudia flight, which includes a 13-hour overnight layover in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, and was scheduled to arrive in Amsterdam just after 1 p.m. on March 14 — a 25-hour journey.

“I’m cautiously optimistic, for sure,” Musu says. “I have some sort of faith this flight will go through.”

Both say they’re “nervous” about the prospect of flying through the Middle East. But at the same time, they’re desperate to be home. Says Musu: “We’re willing to do anything to make it out of paradise.” (CNN)

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