I know people who love flying. They even get to the airport extra early to soak up the air-conditioned atmosphere. How anyone can enjoy partially undressing in public and stuffing all their possessions into a plastic tray to be filtered through an x-ray machine while being frisked by surly ground crew is beyond me. Once through this ritual humiliation it’s time to mill around a glitzy designer shopping mall looking at merchandise you are never going to buy, avoiding hundreds of other displaced persons with wheeled cabin baggage, the size of which is a contentious issue when you get to the boarding gate. Once there, you’re fixed with an icy stare from mission control who tells you smugly that your miniscule handbag, worn slung across your body, counts as a piece of hand luggage and must be put inside your case. A mental note is made to ensure that on the return journey, however hot the temperature at the foreign airport, you will wear your Pac-a-Mac with pockets jammed full of handbag essentials.
Once on board and the scramble for seats established, it’s entertainment time in the form of the safety procedure run through. The phrases, “In the unlikely event of the plane landing on water” and “do not inflate your life-jacket until outside the aircraft” never fail to amuse. The first, assuming the plane makes it across the channel and is not travelling further than the south coast of mainland Europe, displays either blind optimism or complete ignorance of the geographical features below. The second presents the comedic image of a plane load of passengers wearing inflated life-jackets bobbing into each other like crazed particles at a Michelin Man convention.
The only advantage to being claustrophobically encased in the body of a jet aircraft is that it allows you to read solidly for a couple of hours during the day without feeling the least bit guilty. It also forces you to read the book you’ve decided to take on your travels, which, after the first few chapters you realise that were you at home you would have chucked in the recycling and opted for something else.
While struggling to keep focussed on the less than enthralling “thriller of the year” William, aged around two, sitting behind with his two siblings, continually kicks your seat, or, when not doing that, he’s standing on his fold-down table, wiping sticky fingers on your paper headrest while his oblivious parents are sitting on the opposite side of the aisle knocking back their duty free gin and tonics.
The two protagonists in the book you are reading, who alternate chapters and are both despicable, unreliable narrators, are beginning to make you lose the will to live when that numbing blocking-of-the-ears sensation lets you know that the descent has begun and there will soon be an end to this misery. This is when the seats you have chosen for their proximity to the front exit, thereby ensuring first in line at the car hire queue, prove futile as the doors refuse to operate and you are forced to leave the plane by the rear exit.
Eventually beyond passport control, the words “bienvenue, monsieur, madame; we’d like to upgrade your car today, free of charge,” are music to your still throbbing ears.
Having a wonderful time – wish you were here…
Picture: Usborne Books
This is absolutely brilliant! I love it
Thanks for stopping by and commenting.
Flying was good 25 or 30 years ago. ‘Planes were not jam-packed and little William was not kicking anyone’s seat, if he was even on the aircraft. As well as little William behind, I think you forgotten the ignorant toerags in front who suddenly lean back into your tray and thereby chuck red wine all over you, your clothes and everything else. If you are lucky you get a free bottle of champagne to compensate.
I’ve not flown for years. The whole time delay and restrictions leaves me just wanting to get on a train, bus, ship. Which is what I have done. Sure, flying can be cheap. If that’s the priority.
I know – long gone are the days of the breakfast run to Paris on British Caledonian – warm criossants, proper crockery, freshly brewed coffee…
British Airways used to fly the route we’ve just taken, twice a day in the summer, but it has now been taken over by the malignant rash of budget airlines smothering Gatwick. One thing in its favour though, this week – they actually ran to time – both ways!!
Have you noticed the only time the cabin crew smile is when you are leaving the aircraft?
The latest Le Carre book is a good read and can keep my attention even through a flight like the one you describe.
Happy travels.
Yes, but then, what’s to smile about?!
Have a great time Jenny – I love flying as much as you do, with a bit of terror added for good measure.
Thanks Roy, we’re back now, safe and sound. I wonder what the ferry services are like in your neck of the woods as an alternative to flying?
I hate boats as well 🙂
My feeling about air travel, especially transatlantic air travel, is that it is like sitting in a noisy baked bean can for hours on end. Oh, the romance of far away places.
If only there was some other way to get to places quickly. We have driven to our destination in the past but it’s a long old haul and only sensible if we’re there for over a week.
Jenny, this post cheerfully reminded me why flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation. You had some delightful descriptions; my favorite was “passengers wearing inflated life-jackets bobbing into each other like crazed particles at a Michelin Man convention.” I love your writing style, Jenny!
Thanks, Marylin. Flying just provides a means to an end – which can’t come quick enough for me!
This is so completely true and I understand, even though I’m a pilot! 🙂
Ha Ha, you’ve got the best seat in the house then!
Great post. Just wanted to share my hiliarious Ecuadorian adventure with a fellow traveller. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed yours.
http://www.atruetalltale.wordpress.com
Hello Erin, thanks for stopping by and the link to your Ecuadorian Adventure. I’ve dipped in and out of a few of your posts there and it’s fascinating – what a life change!
In 200-2003 I was busily implementing a revised eLearning model in my province. Doing that took me to all parts of our rather spread-out place. I learned to hate travel. Still do. In 2002 I discovered a new videoconferencing product line sold by Polycom and we started placing them in oyur remote sites. Shortly thereafter my travel dropped off markedly. Today I rarely have to make extended visits–only when absolutely necessary.
Many people from my province ‘commute’ 6500 km (or more depending on where in the province they live) from here to Fort McMurray, Alberta to work on the Tar Sands project. It’s high paying work but it resuires people to travel an extended period and to be away from home for weeks at a time. They, too, learn not to like travel. Oh, they take it in stride–after all we do what we have to–but they’d rather be at home.
I guess when travel is work-related we approach it with a different attitude. When i’m going on holiday, I just want to get there!
I love being on airplanes, especially small ones, and i love being at faraway places. Airports and the trips to and fro are quite another thing :>)
You went to France then?!! I had a similar experience on my trip to Majorca recently on Monarch. In the “olden” days, I rated Monarch as one of the better airlines. Now, they seem to have copied Easyjet and Ryanair with their ridiculous “add ons” which do not add to the enjoyment, I used to like it much better when everything was free. Remember the days when you could get a free meal and drink with your flight? And Luggage allowance, don’t get me started on that! My friend nearly had to have her handluggage bag put in the hold because there wasn’t enough room for it in the cabin because everyone else’s bags seemed much larger than the dimensions given, and we carefully measured and weighed ours! If they didn’t charge so much, people would put them in the hold. Rant over, see you thursday x