0.II – Go
0.II – GO
I finally got to start this adventure… One I had been planning for years. First it was med school, then it was COVID, then it was work. But finally, I managed to make it happen. And finally, that day had arrived – the 3rd of August 2022. The day I’d finally get to go on a plane that would take me to Latin America again. But honestly? I had been kinda dreading that day.
I hate travelling. When I say I love to travel it means I love to explore. To discover new places, meet new people, understand different cultures, have all kinds of adventures, broaden my horizons – yada, yada, yada. But the very act of travelling? Only a few things top how much I hate travelling. Like stepping on your dog’s pee right after you shower. Or when you try to kill a mosquito only to end up slapping yourself like an idiot. Anyways, yes, travelling. I hate it with a passion.
First, there’s the check-in process. Try as I might to have everything ready, one thing or another always crops up. Like printing flight tickets, because, you know, the paperless era doesn’t always quite live up to its name. Like my luggage weighing more than it should, or that I had to do the check-in online, or that I don’t look good enough to board the plane. Oh, and did I mention the flight’s delayed? Then there’s the security check. I take out my electronics from my very neatly packed backpack and put them in a tray, they tell me to put my liquids in another but of course I am so prepared for it that I don’t even take liquids with me. I take off my belt and put my wallet and phone away with the rest.
DING DING DING! You’d think a terrorist would have a better way to sneak explosives in, but hey, I’ve made that joke at the airport once, and let me tell you, it’s not worth it. So yeah, then they have me take off my shoes (cause that’s the best place to air my puppies out), they open my bag (and dismantle it piece by piece), they frisk me (who doesn’t crave human touch, right?) and of course, they find nothing. It takes me at least ten minutes to redress and repack and reconvince myself that I do not indeed have anything that might cause a plane crash or a sequel to Snakes on a Plane.
Then I make my way to the gates. The flight’s in about two hours so lemme just get an Americano and turn on my Kindle. I’m rereading A Clockwork Orange for the 28th time and it’s no less entertaining this time round. So much so that they call my name on the PA. I rush to my gate and they kindly allow me to board after telling me I was this close to missing the plane. Only the passenger boarding bridge hasn’t been connected yet and everyone’s just standing idly by. Five minutes of huffing and puffing later, the actual boarding process starts. I’m at the end of the line so of course I have to wait for everyone to put their hand luggage in the overhead bin.
I finally get to my seat and would you look at that, someone’s already sitting there. Do I tell them? Do I not? The struggle is real. Besides, I paid a thousand bucks (it’s actually Euros but right now they’re practically equivalent so I figure I can actually use the same term) so I sure as hell should say something. I say something and they move and I can finally sit down.
All Boarded Up
I sit down and remember this flight’s delayed. Will I make it in time for my connecting flight? Man, I really don’t feel like having to pay for another flight let alone another night’s accommodation cost. And wait, what happens to my luggage? Does it actually go to the destination without me? The flight attendants are giving their speech and moving their hands in a weird but kinda suggestive way, so I put on my headphones and try to tune them out. Might be rude, but let’s face it, if there’s a plane crash I think we’d all be done for anyways. The plane starts moving, then accelerating, then it lifts off. My ears pop, but then un-pop and seem to stay in that nether zone for the entirety of the flight. Some minor turbulence and pretty soon we’re in the clouds.
Finally I can relax a bit. My eyes close off as I seem to stumble into a nap and some much-needed escape from anxiety. The kid right next to me elbows me right in the face. I go through the five stages of grief but seem to get stuck at the second one. The kid’s parents apologise and I try to go back to sleep. I manage and then I’m poked awake by the damned kid again. “What now?!” I yell. He’s holding my tray with the food. I reciprocate the apology stupidly, let out a deep sigh and then accept that my life will forever suck. We get to the first stop. Someone claps. Others join in. The flight attendant warns us to stay in our seats. Everyone stands up and gets ready to leave. I hate people.
I rush to the gate where I’m supposed to have my connecting flight. I’m literally drenched in sweat after my sprint. I’m told this flight is delayed too so I didn’t need to rush. Thanks! Rinse and repeat and finally I’m on the flight to the promised land. But it’s a fourteen-hour flight this time round. It’s not just the noise and the motion now. It’s also my nose that gets so dry it starts bleeding. My legs start to cramp. My head starts throbbing. I’m practically close to summoning the captain for an emergency landing – but that would probably be useless given that we just arrived – and that I’m just a melodramatic idiot.
Wait, what? We arrived? We arrived! Who would’ve thunk, right? Now I gotta head to passport check. I should have everything in order. “Crap! I lost my passport!!”. It takes me a minute to find it exactly right where I had left it. They roll their eyes, sigh and let me by. Then it’s baggage reclaim. I’m waiting. Waiting. Waiting some more. Where the hell is it? Everyone got theirs and I’m the last one standing. What the hell am I gonna do? I make up my mind to ask the security – there it is!
So I guess that’s that then huh? Easy peazy lemon squeazy. I’ve no idea why I have to make a big deal of it every single time!