Granny Grunt does flying

This flying lark well, it is something else isn’t it? Or maybe I’m just getting old but, every time I fly it seems to get worse.  Starting with trying to book your flight on line which, in itself is easy until you go to pay and then for whatever reason your card is declined, so you have to start all over again, and by the time you get to the end the price has gone up!

Eventually you get a booking reference but woe betide you if you need to make any changes, although you do it all yourself, you end up paying an admin charge! and all for the pleasure of adding an extra suitcase.

Finally the day arrives and you make your way into the airport having carefully weighed all your luggage at home, then stand in a queue of other disgruntled passengers, eventually it is your turn to face the matter of fact check in clerk.  “Did I pack the bags myself?” “No I got the bloke down the road to do it” I am tempted to say and no, I wasn’t asked to carry anything in for somebody else, I can only just about manage my own bags. Then onto to the dreaded weigh in, somehow or other my cases always seem to gain a bit of extra weight from leaving home and arriving at the check in.  But hey the clerk then happily informs me that as it is only half a kilo over so this time there will be no extra charge.  I smile ingratiatingly and watch my suitcase disappear down the conveyor belt hopefully onto the correct flight.  I decided long ago that it does not pay to argue with these mini Hitlers much as I would like to stuff my boarding pass down her perfectly lipsticked mouth.

Now to tackle the security checks, more queuing, now the striptease starts, off with my shoes, my watch, mobile phone, belt, jacket, jumper and shoes.  It would be easier if we went through naked (no dread the thought) I have put all my liquids in the little see through bags which hopefully is the right size this time! oh and I am only allowed one this time says the gleeful officer happily stuffing all my bottles into one bag.  Everything ends up in a tray and disappears into the dark tunnel of the scanner and I hope it all emerges intact on the other side.

Then it is my turn to walk half naked through the scanning device only to hear the unwelcome beep go off.  Now what? the officer rushes over to me with hand scanner at the ready and quickly runs the thing all over me nothing!  There never is but I sometimes wonder if they get some sort of perverse pleasure of seeing the look of panic on our faces.  Then like cattle we are herded through to collect our belongings and get dressed again.  At last it is time to enter the departure lounge and head off to the duty frees and a coffee!

I decide to buy a small bottle of whiskey and as I go to pay I am asked for my boarding pass why? I wonder I wouldn’t be in here unless I had a ticket, and have cleared security.  So I rummage in my bag and extract it from my passport, pay for it and head off for a coffee which as normal is twice the price  I would have to pay outside the airport and if I want a bottle of water it is cheaper to buy an unwanted newspaper and get a bottle free!

I hate plane toilets so I always go before I board the plane and as usual the nearest loo is a good ten minute walk away, why it is called a convenience I will never know.  Just as I leave the toilets I hear that my boarding gate has been changed and could we all make our way as quick as possible to the correct gate which needless to say is the furthest one away.  I grab my hand luggage and make my way through the crowded hall avoiding people texting and not looking where they are going, finally I arrive at gate number 53  where the rest of the passengers are jostling for position, god knows why, when you have already been allocated your seat number.

Once on board there is the usual scrum for the overhead lockers, eventually we are all settled and ready for take off, with the pilot happily telling us what a pleasure it is for him and his crew to have us on board.  Well without us he and the crew would be out of work wouldn’t they? Next comes the safety demo with the stewards happily showing us how to do up and undo a fairly simple buckle, followed by how to inflate your life jacket should the situation arise and how to find it under your seat that is if you can reach it in time!

As I settle into my window seat I hear the wail of a young baby, which for some unknown reason always seem to sit right behind me, maybe that is the true meaning of a babe magnet.  I love kids but I had hoped to get some sleep although there is fat chance of that, what with all the announcements that will follow, on how much money the flight company has raised for charity, how many calendars featuring their staff they have sold, lottery tickets, duty frees, and then the snack trolley will rumble pass selling overpriced junk food followed by the rubbish collection.

Finally after much fidgeting about in a space fit for a hamster I mange to find a comfortable position and nod off for a while only to be woken up by yes you guessed it the baby behind me who has decided it needs feeding yet again.  Rubbing my very stiff neck I wonder to myself why I actually put myself through this agony.

Finally the captain announces that we will be landing in about twenty minutes, thank God for that I mutter, the usual clearing up rush starts, the seat belt light comes on and there is always at least one passenger doing a last minute dash to the toilet, what have they been doing for the last four hours?

As we land some of the passengers give a round of applause, bet they wouldn’t do that if we crashed, this is then followed by the most awful fanfare announcing how wonderful it is that the company has got us here on time.  Do we really care?

Another scrum ensues as the door is opened and one by one we disembark from this metal tube, fighting the wind we make our way into the terminal passports at the ready.  The officer who looks about as interested in us as we are in him casually waves us through, so much for security here!

Now the battle of the suitcases begins, why oh why does everybody crowd around the conveyor belt so tightly, After all you can see your suitcase on its way round, mine is normally last.  Finally I collect all my luggage and go through into the arrivals hall and yes you guessed it my husband is nowhere to be seen.

Why on earth can he not make anything on time! as the crowd thins I see a hand frantically waving above the heads of others, there he is. We finally greet each other and make our way out to the car park, much to my surprise this time he has not lost the parking ticket! “that makes a change” I tell him.  No reply.

As we reach the car I can relax, why do I do this? I sometimes wonder but, the the answer soon becomes apparent as we reach our daughters house and I am greeted by the biggest smiles and hugs in the world as both my young granddaughters rush towards me.