At the airport we noted the signs at the Easyjet check-in desk: “If you’re late, you won’t be allowed on the flight”. I wondered, having seen the ‘Airport’ programmes, if the chance of being on telly would incite some passengers to purposely cause a fuss or complain more just so that the cameras would capture it. I decided not to go down this route, on account of having a bad hair day. Lucky for them. ;)
On arrival at the gate, we waited patiently for departure. This was after being advised by the steward (who was obviously practising for his World Record attempt at the ‘Fastest Intercom Announcement Speech’) that “wearewaitingforasuperiorandherpassdidntworksoshesgonetogetanotherone”. It was hard to figure out what was going on, due to the speed of his announcement, coupled with his thick Scouse accent, not to mention a slight speech impediment. I’m all for equal opportunities but *really* – can they not get anyone who can ENUNCIATE with clarity? oof. I’d hoped there would be a sign to say “If we’re late, you can have a discount for the 45 minute delay due to the ineptitude of our ground staff”. But there wasn’t.
We finally boarded after the ‘superior’ arrived and checked us in. They wouldn’t leave it to the Scouse steward of course. He’s inept. Every time I get on a flight I look around to see if anyone has small grizzly babies or annoying, hyperactive toddlers. My patience is zero tolerance for this sort of thing. The last thing I want is a sticky-mitted urchin pulling at the back of my seat whilst simultaneously yowling. Yes, I’ve got two children myself. But our two are well-behaved, and sit quietly. I’d be horrified if they annoyed anyone else on the plane. In a confined space I find that my patience is limited severely. Luckily enough, we’d paid extra for ‘Speedy Boarding’, so we were first onto the plane. Obviously my distaste at other people’s children must have shone through because they all headed past us and towards the back of the plane. Hurrah!
You could say that I’m not particularly keen on flying. The very first thing I do when I sit in my seat is read the safety card, look to see where the nearest exits are, check under my seat for my life jacket and the children’s life jackets, and make sure our seatbelts are done up. I also point out the nearest exits to the children and show them the fluorescent lines on the floor leading to the exits. If I think about flying too much I’d be quite a wreck, but I keep my cool and try to be as calm and collected as I can so that the children don’t get anxious. The flight passed without incident… until we began our descent. We were very close to landing and I was looking forward to being on the ground when suddenly the pilot pulled up at the last minute and began climbing again. There was no announcement, and I for one was panicking about what the problem was. After what seemed ages, (but was probably only a few minutes) the pilot announced that the crew had taken the decision to abort the landing because of cross-winds, and it was all very normal. (Was it??!! Not for me it wasn’t! *thinks* OH MY GOD WE’RE GOING TO CRASH!!!!! oof) We then had to circle the airport for another 20 minutes before making our second attempt from another direction. The whole of that time I was trying to stay calm, whilst DD1 kept messing around and hitting the window with her teddy bear. This was *not* a good thing, it made me even more anxious. — Argh!! If she hits the window too hard with that bear, it’s going to break and we’ll all be sucked out!!!! — Oh good grief. Calm down dear! It’s amazing how my imagination gets going in times of stress. I just wanted to be ON THE GROUND. Normally. Walking into arrivals. Not in a heap of tangled wreckage.
We finally landed (very smoothly I have to add) and we all heaved a sigh of relief. Little did we know that this was to become a sign that the holiday wasn’t quite going to turn out as we thought….. …but more on that in the next post!