Flying; the transport mode of the devil
I had the worst nights sleep last night and I think it was triggered not by my late night snack but by the thought of flying to Sydney today. Honestly, I could have only had three hours sleep tops. Now if you've been keeping up since the start of this little number, you'll know that I'm not taken with this flying malarky and have used chemical methods to help fight the fear - i.e. drugs! But I also realise that it's a different matter flying from the UK to Australia as it is flying from Adelaide to Sydney and given the number of flights I've taken in the last two months (this last one is the 6th) I can't be taking the drugs for every little flight. However, I'm not saying that I enjoy flying.
So I get to the airport this morning and I stroll past all the suckers at check-in to drop off my luggage (web check-in woohoo!!) and I'm thinking to myself, hmmm, this is going remarkably well. I get some thai food in the terminal and then moosy on down to the gate to get on the plane. It's all perfect. So we all get on the plane and we're sitting there in our seats like good children waiting for the imminent departure. And we wait. I think we all thought that there was one of those really annoying people making us all wait, you know the one buying all the duty free but no one shows up. Eventually a dude in a fluro vest with the word 'Tech' strolls down the aisle from the back of the plane and at this point you begin to wonder if perhaps the delay isn't a mad shopper. You then also begin to wish the delay *was* a mad shopper.
20 minutes later we are informed that the computer error (I know....) hasn't been fixed yet, but they'll know within 5 minutes whether we're staying or going. Erm, staying?? Que??? Woah there tiger, there's a New Year just around the corner and it's got my name on it.
10 minutes later we were advised to disembark the aircraft while they looked into the problem. They didn't know how long it would take to fix the problem, or even if the problem could be fixed. We all got off the plane.
So we're all at the gate and waiting and listening to the myriad announcements. And slowly putting it all together it becomes clear. The Sydney flight has taken first dibs on the plane intended for Brisbane. If you're going to Brissie you're unlucky. Sydney rocks. We all get on the plane and the people waiting at the new gate for their departure to Brisbane give us all daggers as we board the plane - and fair enough really.
But I don't know if we changed pilot or something for our trip to Sydney, but you would have thought what with the traumas of the plane failure at Adelaide, they wouldn't then allow the second officer (or whatever they call them - knitwear boy will know) to actually 'fly' the plane. What's wrong with autopilot huh?? Christ, it was like being thrown around like a lottery ball in the National Lottery. Turbulence aplenty and a landing on one wheel - really, I don't need that shit.
So now I'm wishing I'd taken one of my flying chill pills but it was all too late.
And OK, I am a whinging old bat, because I am here safely blogging this, so it's not like I was traumatised beyond belief. However, I will be soothing my nerves later with some mango martinis and a little stroll around the bars in Bondi. (And Paris Hilton can sod off.)
So I get to the airport this morning and I stroll past all the suckers at check-in to drop off my luggage (web check-in woohoo!!) and I'm thinking to myself, hmmm, this is going remarkably well. I get some thai food in the terminal and then moosy on down to the gate to get on the plane. It's all perfect. So we all get on the plane and we're sitting there in our seats like good children waiting for the imminent departure. And we wait. I think we all thought that there was one of those really annoying people making us all wait, you know the one buying all the duty free but no one shows up. Eventually a dude in a fluro vest with the word 'Tech' strolls down the aisle from the back of the plane and at this point you begin to wonder if perhaps the delay isn't a mad shopper. You then also begin to wish the delay *was* a mad shopper.
20 minutes later we are informed that the computer error (I know....) hasn't been fixed yet, but they'll know within 5 minutes whether we're staying or going. Erm, staying?? Que??? Woah there tiger, there's a New Year just around the corner and it's got my name on it.
10 minutes later we were advised to disembark the aircraft while they looked into the problem. They didn't know how long it would take to fix the problem, or even if the problem could be fixed. We all got off the plane.
So we're all at the gate and waiting and listening to the myriad announcements. And slowly putting it all together it becomes clear. The Sydney flight has taken first dibs on the plane intended for Brisbane. If you're going to Brissie you're unlucky. Sydney rocks. We all get on the plane and the people waiting at the new gate for their departure to Brisbane give us all daggers as we board the plane - and fair enough really.
But I don't know if we changed pilot or something for our trip to Sydney, but you would have thought what with the traumas of the plane failure at Adelaide, they wouldn't then allow the second officer (or whatever they call them - knitwear boy will know) to actually 'fly' the plane. What's wrong with autopilot huh?? Christ, it was like being thrown around like a lottery ball in the National Lottery. Turbulence aplenty and a landing on one wheel - really, I don't need that shit.
So now I'm wishing I'd taken one of my flying chill pills but it was all too late.
And OK, I am a whinging old bat, because I am here safely blogging this, so it's not like I was traumatised beyond belief. However, I will be soothing my nerves later with some mango martinis and a little stroll around the bars in Bondi. (And Paris Hilton can sod off.)
posted by Keyboard Addict at 5:27:00 pm
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