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The art of flying

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I flew from Sydney to Perth and back in the last two days, which meant around ten hours of flying in twenty-four hours, just for a three-hour meeting. Perth is a wonderful city and it’s always a pleasure to go there, weren’t it for the long flight. On my flight back last night I was sitting next to a giant. So tall that I thought his head was going to go through the ceiling. I watched him sit next to me in his economy seat and try to fold his legs to make them fit between his seat and the one in front. Alas, this didn’t work and he had to encroach on my space with half of one of his leg. I wasn’t going to say anything, I felt bad enough for the guy. And then he started working on a big file, underlining words in yellow stabylo boss and constantly turning pages, which meant that I was getting his right elbow into my ribs every time he made a move. He tried to change position, I tried to change position, to no avail. I ended up having to move forward and to the right ,to avoid being hit. The flight felt very, very long. Other than that, generally speaking, people were well behaved. A woman complained that there was no more space in the overhead compartment… Where was she supposed to put her TWO large bags? She pushed everything around and forced her way through, ending up nowhere apart from starting a fight with another woman whose bags were being squeezed into oblivion. A flight attendant had to come to the rescue. There was also the conversation between the man and the woman behind me about the birthday party for a three year old they had just attended. I had to listen to all the details about the cakes, the children, Stephanie’s tantrum and Josh’s urgent big poo. Then there was this boy a few rows in front who forgot that he had his headphones on and insisted on telling (screaming) someone about the dum movie he was watching. The person he was talking to must have had her/his headphones on (or earplugs), since they made no attempt to stop the yelling. Painful.

Flying for me always feels surreal. Pick 300 or 400 people who have nothing to do with each other, who have never met and will probably never meet again, and make them sit them next to each other in a metal box with absolutely no room, then send the box into space for at least twelve hours and watch the result. Flying boxes full of rows and rows of strangers filling the sky. It’s a miracle there aren’t more murders in planes! It beats the office and work colleagues big time. Here are a few of the stereotypes whom I have met and can make travelling by plane hell. See if you can find others. Please let me know…

  • The small bladder person who goes to the toilet every half hour and is sitting in a middle seat, forcing you to stand up every time they have to go to the loo.
  • The kid sitting next to you who keeps moving, hitting, screaming and who splashes you with his food when he/she eats.
  • The kid’s mother.
  • The baby who keeps crying (You can’t really blame her!). Of course her cot is right under your nose (You thought you were going to have more leg room, and you end up with a baby cot and the crying monster instead).
  • The baby’s mother.
  • Large people who sit next to you and generously overflow onto your seat.
  • The giant I was talking about before.
  • The sniffler who’s never seen a tissue in his life.
  • The passenger behind you who keeps hitting your back with his knees.
  • The entire row of passengers behind who grab your headrest when they want to get up and wake you up every time.
  • The passenger who’s sick with gastro and used the toilet just before you.
  • The flight attendant who pretends to forget your request every time.
  • The passenger in front who decides to lie down and recline his seat when you’re having dinner or watching that can’t-be-missed action movie.
  • The football team who’ve just won the match of their lives.
  • The gaggle of teenage girls who’re going on a three-day, girls only, weekend (And of course you have somehow ended up sitting in the middle of the group).
  • The “talkative” who insists on telling you her life story.
  • The stinker who’s never seen a stick of deodorant in his whole life.
  • The honeymooners who keep pashing next to you during the entire flight.
  • The passenger who doesn’t turn up on time and whose luggage needs to be identified and taken out of the plane, delaying the flight by one hour at least.
  • The sick passenger sitting to your left and who makes ample use of the air sick bag.
  • The passenger sitting next to you, falling asleep on your shoulder (and most of the time dribbling, too).
  • The loud snorer (They’re everywhere!).

I’m facing fourty-eight hours of flying in the next month or so. Wish me luck!



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