As readers (and those who follow my social media accounts) will know, I recently returned from a wonderful trip to Spain. While the relaxing, reading, swimming and forgetting about school was wonderful, the journey to Spain was not so enjoyable. Especially the plane journey. I’m sure most of the population in the developed world fly without any fear, the experience as normal as putting the bins out. Not for me. From checking in all the way to collecting luggage, I find the process of flying annoying, void of pleasure and nerve-wracking.
You would think checking in would be simple. Luggage scanned, passport checked, duty free items avoided. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The huge amount of people trying to check in at the same time resulted in chaos and barging to ensure the process is completed in the least amount of time. The barging only increased the time taken. The paranoia over whether my luggage fitted the requirements for check-in or whether I accidently smuggled a banned item is permanent. My main nerves were walking through the rectangular metal barrier, as I wondered what I’d have to do with my hearing aids – they were taken out. Yes, it did go off. Yes, I was checked over like a criminal. Thankfully, I was allowed through. An uncomfortable experience. The combination of ensuring all my luggage was collected from the supermarket style conveyor belt, desperately scanning the ever changing digital screen for the flight gate while zooming past the duty free cigarettes and looking forward to the holiday ahead would surely make any sane person go mad. Most people seemed to manage the huge mixture of things – at least on the outside. I tried to, by having the motivation of sunbathing without a care in the world just a few hours away. Walking to the flight, I noticed just how many shops there were. It’s ridiculous. No ordinary person not travelling would come to an airport simply for the shops. There must be so little confidence in planes arriving and departing on time that holiday makers will have to turn their holiday plans into a shopping spree. All those hurdles in my flying journey came before the biggest, scariest hurdle of them all: the actual flight. After heaving up the unnecessarily steep stairs and clamouring my way over a fellow passenger into my seat, the real fun began. For some awkward reason, the aeroplane seatbelts were completely different to ordinary car seatbelts. The supposedly helpful guide to seatbelt fastening was not at all helpful. Gradually, my desperation had to be resolved by a fellow passenger helping me. Thanks to the passenger. No thanks to the aeroplane company. The most important part of the flight, the safety instructions, was the most ignored. I certainly wanted to see and hear the flight attendants demonstrate potentially lifesaving techniques. However, experience fliers clearly mastered oxygen masks and life jackets, or believed they will never have to use them. Whatever their reason, talking over the safety instructions is wrong, as this was not fair on those of us who wanted to hear. Nobody would ignore a safety briefing in any other context. Why was it acceptable on a plane? The flight soon began. The nerves were far more than butterflies in my stomach: it was petrifying. I was totally out of control, and being an inexperienced flier, totally out of my comfort zone. The deafening rumble of the plane engine made me fear an explosion. An irrational thought I know, but the amount of fuel used simply for take-off surely increases the risk of a fire. Unlike other passengers, my eyes were open throughout the whole of the take-off. Not because I wanted to see the ground become smaller. On the contrary, I just wanted to make sure we had taken off safely and were heading for the air, despite my physical and mental sinking feeling. Throughout the flight, I read books to distract me from the seemingly endless hellish journey. There was no chance of me having a nap, as my mind was too alert of the dangers potentially moments away. Distractions like the endless promotion of the airline lottery didn’t help. Every time I heard a beep or felt the plane tipping, I presumed imminent disaster. Yes, I know it’s ridiculous paranoia, but could you think rationally in a metal tube at 10,000ft? I didn’t think so. The landing was definitely my favourite part. Not because I had to lean against the seat in front of me while feeling the plane violently shake on the ground. The landing meant the flight was, at last, over. Even when the plane was firmly on the ground, I had to stay in my seat, seatbelt attached. The stairs taking us to freedom, like the flight, certainly took their time. Following this, there was a mad stampede to grab luggage and rush off the plane as quickly as possible. It appears, by the end of the flight, everyone hated flying as much as me. I could bore you with endless details about the tedious process of entering a new country. All I’ll say is a) why do airports allow anyone to take luggage from the hold without checks? And b) I wonder how closely immigration officers look at your face compared to the passport photo. If I find the process tedious, it must be dire for them. So, that was my flight experience. Not as awful as it could be, but still anything other than enjoyable. In terms of my fear of flying, I know I’ve got a higher chance of dying due to a horse wearing a Santa hat karate chopping me. However, just because the chance of death is low doesn’t make the experience a thrilling occasion. People who love flying should be more inclusive to those whom despise it, understanding the many negative aspects. After all, flying was never meant to be fun, was it?
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Author:Noah enjoys writing a blog and drinking tea Archives
September 2022
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