The Flight Over
After biding my farewells to Ing and Fred, it was off to the airport where everything went wrong. After asking the lady at the check in desk if my bags could go straight to Dublin, I was informed that it was impossible due to the fact that I had to change airports in London. I only have my itinerary about two months so you can see why I overlooked it. With all the arguments going on at the desk, I also forgot to ask for a window or aisle seat. Was really hoping now that this upgrade was going to happen.
Next disaster was at customs, when the girl I showed my boarding pass and passport too asks me to wait where I am and off she shuffles. I started getting a bit worried when I saw her come back with two officials in tow. They brought me to a little side room and sat me down. My first thought was that I was British Airways 1 billionth passenger and that I was going to get a lifetime of free travel. Alas, nothing of the sort. Works out that the Australian immigration office which I had only paid a visit to the previous day had issued me a visa which expired on that day. Clever. Customs guys were ok about it but informed me that I wont be able to return to Oz in three months unless I get it sorted first. Onwards an upwards.
When I got on to the plane I found my seat beside an old man who was wider than he was tall. It was like sitting beside an octopus. Arms everywhere. He didn’t speak any English which I was grateful for as I wasn’t in the mood of pleasantries after the afternoons events so far. King Kong was shite as was The Pink Panther. At the end of the flight I thought “Octopus” was giving me some money but he was only offering his hand to shake it. I think it was because I helped him get a drink an hour earlier. There was a bit of confusion with the steward when he arrived with the trolley.
Steward: Drink sir?
Me: Yea, I’ll have another beer, thanks?
Steward: And for you sir?
Octopus: Orzerarlarend
Steward: I’m sorry?
Octopus: OZERARLAREND !!!
Me: I think he wants an orange juice.
Steward: Are you sure?
Me: Well try it and see what happens.
So the steward holds up the orange juice and is greeted with a toothless grin from Octopus. He only elbowed me four times drinking it, but he was happy.
The flight from Bangkok to London was uneventful, thanks to 15mg of valium. What 12 hours?
So here I am sitting in Gatwick airport after giving National Express 20 pounds to get me here from Heathrow. I’m still trying to work out what I could have got for the $70 in Oz.
posted by Declan Coyle at 7:00 PM
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