This reminds me of a much-less dramatic situation when I walked halfway around a block in Morroco to pick up our car, intending to drive back and pick up my husband and the luggage in five minutes. Three quarters of the way around the block I was pulled over by a policeman, who kept shouting at me first in Arabic and then in French. I was started to sweat heavily as I could not understand what he wanted and what I was supposed to do. After 30 minutes or so, he abruptly waved me on. My husband, needless to say, wondered what took me so long!