We are half an hour from supposedly getting on board our plane to head back to the UK and its the usual holiday travel madness.
I am asking myself as I look up at the flight departure board why have 4 flights arrived and are all set to leave at 12:00 midday so how does that work then?
New game, musical airplanes!
How are you going to get four flights off the ground at the same time, worrying don’t you think!
Now the announcer is shouting for all passengers to Liverpool to get to the front of the queue as the plane is ready to depart.
The public once again are at the brunt of bad communication regarding flight information.
The typical british holiday maker is on show for all to see.
Flip flops, shorts, crazy hats not one of them appear to a have any regard for their safety on a plane. A quick exit requires good robust trainers or shoes not flip flops, ideal if we happen to have an emergency landing on the sand!
They are hot and bothered, flustered and fed up they can’t go any faster through security control as they are reliant on the security men and women who are checking and frisking them!
Did I mention that there are only four security people in attendance to check and frisk 600 potential passengers groovy.
You are too scared to shout at the security people to get a move on for fear of being further frisked in an exploratory way if you get my drift especially as they are now all wearing rubber gloves.
It’s the power they wield over you they sense you are tense and in a hurry yet they couldn’t go any slower if they tried, but the voice inside your head is screaming get a move on.
There is another word I feel I could insert here but for those who abhor swearing I’ll keep it clean.
Now on the plane, the flight attendants shout at you with a smile on their faces and tell you to get a move on, find your seat and sit down as “we will miss our flight slot” as if it was your fault you single handedly caused the plane to be delayed.
Having established myself in the seat, I get stuck with the proverbial passenger from hell.
He looks alright until he flashes his beaming “I had my teeth whitened especially for my holiday so I can pick up a bird and get laid” and he’s wearing flip flops too with feet that look like they’ve been through a mincer then I then get the story of his holiday.
I shut up as I feign minimal interest with a faint smile as he rattles on about his holiday exploits.
He looks at my ipad and ‘says is that an ipad,’ no it’s a toaster I feel like saying what the heck do you think it is.
In front of me I have a family of 6, no I mean 6 kids and 2 adults they are the kids from hell, 6 teenagers both boys who have clearly OD’d on coke and mini cheddars mega super-sized pack who are shouting at each other whilst mum is doing her best to calm her clan down.
How do you get time to have 6 kids, I barely have time to manage 2 let alone 6 of the smiling monsters.
One boy decides to literally climb over me to get to his seat.
Horrified at the thought that I’m going to be saddled with one of these monsters on a two and half hour flight, I glare at the mother, she turns to look at me, smiles and it’s the smile between two women who are unwittingly bonded through the virtue of being mothers. It is the look that says sorry and I know that you know how I feel!
Thankfully I breathe a sigh of relief when I discover the boy monster is actually sitting in the wrong seat.
In the midst of all the shenanigans his lordship my beloved husband whom I might add is sitting with our boys in the next aisle seat thinks it’s sooo funny he’s wetting himself with laughter as its always me that appears to get the short straw.
But guess what I’ll have the last laugh because the passenger from hell seated next to me has alluded to the fact that he doesn’t like flying so when we hit clear air turbulence over the channel I’ll be the one screaming WE’RE GOING DOWN BRACE, BRACE!
Ode to the joy of travelling!
See you in the UK. That’ll be next week then!
