Flying sucks

The shutter clicked, but the film did not go ’round 
The shutter clicked, but the film did not go ’round 
I touch these strings, but cannot touch the sound 

Take a train to a bus, and then into the air 
Take a train to a bus, and then into the air 
If I had wings, I’d follow you up there 

Girl you know I hate to see you go 
I hate to see you go 
But the sunlight follows you right down the road 

Just the thought of you makes me wanna cry 
Just the thought of you makes me wanna cry 
This deep well of tears has just run dry 

- Nada Surf, Film Did Not Go ‘Round

I took a bus to a train and then into the air – from Bratislava to Bristol with Ryanair. This was my fifth flight to a third destination but it hadn’t taken me long to realize that flying sucks. We obediently pay huge tax for the quick transport. 

2 hours prior to the flight we make couple of queues and obediently wait to check-in. We pray that we will have up to 15 kg (Ryanair) or 20 kg (Skyeurope) of luggage so we don’t have to pay. Right in front of you waits a fat lady and probably prays that she will have required limits of 15 kg. At least something that she could accomplish as far as weight. 

I come to the check-in desk and put my 15 kilos over there. Fortunately it’s only 14,8 kg. I weight three times less than the lady but I am the same passenger still. I carry my passport and boarding ticket in my mouth and my handbag with my hands. I obediently join another row in front of the security board. For few minutes I am laughing my ass of from those who didn’t read security precautions. I see perfumes, plum brandy and water being thrown to the bin. Goodbye. 

Only some people are now in front of me so I take my Mac from my handbag, take off my belt and put it into “lovely” plastic box. Two mobiles, passport, jacket. Off to go. It didn’t peep so they don’t have to touch me. 

The guy asks me whether I have some glass in the bag. I laugh. Yeah, whole series from my grandmother. He looks for himself and finds Nescafe. I forgot about it. He says it’s okay. Well of course it is or else I would be really mad! Do not try to take coffee from me. It’s my drug!

The journey of standing in queues continues. I check my passport again and move to another hall. I turn on my laptop and chat with my friends again. Then I rather turn it off because I don’t have prior boarding ticket so if I want to have a good seat, I have to be first in the row- the battle begins. 

I am one of the first though. We moved only some metres. 20 people in one hall, those ones with prior boarding tickets. The rest of us, stacked like sardines in the other hall. We are waiting for 5 minutes..10… 15..We should have been in the airplane but we’re still waiting in those halls. 20 people look at us and I look at them. I feel like I am not going to fly but I am waiting for the train to a concentration camp. Rich Jews first and less people in the train…the poor ones in the same wagon, hardly having some fresh air. We all end up at the same place after all. 

I saved few bucks and didn’t have a prior boarding ticket but still was one of the first ones on the board. The flight was never ending and since it was dark outside, I stared at my own reflection in the window and wanted to cry. My music saved my once again.

The only good thing about Ryanair was cabin crew member Frederick who was not only handsome but also funny and nice. 

I am off to the center right now, beginning my three months journey of total independence and responsibility. I really don’t feel like doing this. But that’s my only choice. 

 

~ by Lenka Bliss on May 30, 2008.