Unlike the morning flight to Dubai from Manama, which has been crowded out with Westerners getting out of Bahrain as fast as they could, the inbound evening flight was half empty. The final destination for many was Dammam. The steward onboard was depressed. “Bahrain has turned into Somalia,” he said. “People are walking around with axes. How did this happen?” he asked.

At the airport, officials tried to persuade us all to take a flight to Dammam rather then drive. Some Saudis did but others refused. None of the Westerners who insisted on driving was refused a visa.

In Manama, everything was closed — bizarre for 9 o’clock at night! It felt like a city under siege. The few vehicles that were around were almost all headed to the causeway. All drove over the speed limit. There were four checkpoints, manned it seemed by police in plain clothes, but their pullovers and heavy coats may have been more to do with the fact that the night was chilly. The only place where there were any crowds was at neighborhoods that had been blocked off with steel drums and concrete blocks.

On the causeway, at Saudi immigration, the atmosphere suddenly changed. Suddenly everything was laid-back. Five officials were idly chatting by the side of the road. The trunk was given the briefest of glances and the car waved through. For a military campaign, it had to count as the most casual ever seen.

At the Saudi end, the causeway it was different again. There was a huge police presence. Bahraini vehicles were being allowed through. We had seen three on the causeway heading across, compared to the much larger numbers heading the other way at speeds way over the limit. But Saudi vehicles were not being allowed to go to Bahrain. Nor were trucks. They were backed up five kilometers. And there was no guarantee that they would be allowed over on Wednesday.