Airplane rides couldn't be much more fun, but thirteen hours! It's just too much! I always loved getting on the plane. It is cold and magical inside, with lots of seats, and the first class passage.
Instead, we get to go to the end of the plane, to the economy (or chicken class as I call it).
So, it is always me, beside my twin sister in very uncomfortable seats just beside the bathroom. I wonder why my parents never get us good seats when we travel alone. After dinner, you meet everyone who wants to go attend the call of nature, maybe you can even make friends while they are waiting. I always get the worst seat, it is me who always gets hit by the food kart each time it passes. As we take off , everything is fine, setting aside the excruciating hours to go. As time passes by, I usually try to finish a book, or watch a movie. There are really good ones that are worth watching, or we also have the chance of a thirteen hours only with movies like Dragon-Ball Evolution or Cat Ate My Homework. Just as Pathetic as they sound.
Anyways, my experience in planes traveling with my sister I are not bad. My great experiences in planes are with other people. Our trip from Paris to Japan marked my life forever.
We got on the plane after a half and hour connection and a ten hour flight from Bogota to Charles de Gaulle. We got in our Chicken Class seats, but the surprise was, there were three seats. Obviously, my sister got the window, and well, I had the center. I still wished I could have the aisle. So, I prayed and prayed to not make the guy next to me be French (it's not to be stereotypical, but I've had personal experiences with French guys). Please, let him be anything but french. I could imagine the whole flight with the horrible armpit smell in the recycled air. We waited, until our seat companion came. He threw the passport to the seat.
" Italiano ", my sister whispered, " at least he is not French". I was kind of relieved, maybe we could start talking about Italian cars, until he sat down.
I swear I would have fainted or something. No, wait, how could I faint? The smell had me all shocked up!It was terrible! It was a combination of smelly armpit solution mixed with bad breath. And I had him just beside me, killing me with his smell of Italian. I kept saying, " don't worry, in no time, you will get used to it". Five hours and I kept repeating it over and over. Meanwhile, my sister, who doesn't have any sense of smell, was okay on the window taking notes on the view. She kept nudging me on how amazing the Russian ice caps were, but I was too busy to care about ice caps at the moment, with the big smelly guy on my shoulder.
He yawned, and I was about to puke, so I got my pillow and tried to breath through it. I wished the the plane ladies would spray something on the plane for the foul smell, maybe a whole bottle of spray on the guy. I didn't have any interest in talking, I would never stand his breath at my direction. I wouldn't be able to got through a thirteen hour flight with that guy, but what could I do? I was an underage without parents travelling alone with three more underage sisters in a plane alone.
All I could do was to resist, at least the temptation of vomiting. They served dinner, and for my pleasure, wine. More and more weird smells. I couldn't stand it. At night, I even had to get as far as I could, but the guy was so huge he almost overed my seat. Why, did I have to be in the center.
I never felt as much happiness when we got off. Fresh air! I continued saying, beautiful, fresh and clean air! And I still can't take the horrible smell off my mind.
After this experience, the adventures continued. As we went home back from Japan, to my surprise, I had the center again, and a French guy next to me, and my sister, in the window. At least he didn't smell, but sure did he like taking space. It was me, the whole trip, squashed.
Another of my great flights was back from Abu-Dhabi to New York. I had a cold, and I was in the aisle. As I was almost about to die, and thinking of the recycled air in the plane, and the rest of the people who would be breathing my germs, I just wished we'd get there already! We had taken a five hour land trip form Jaipur to New Delhi, then a plane from New Delhi to Abu- Dahbi, and from Abu-Dhabi to New York. It was not over, then we would have to take another airplane form New York to Bogota. We would arrive at the morning, and my father had his crazy idea that should still go to school that day.
Anyways, we had the honor of riding Etihad, the best airline in the world, and I had to have the damn baby at my side. The air plane was empty, and still, that damn baby. He would cry, cry and cry, and I, suffered and suffered. I wanted to kill that little boy, or at least just shut him up. Obviously, I wouldn't kill the baby, but who could stop me if I wanted to?
As the airplane waiter came with a bag of food, I got jelly beans, when suddenly, the baby! He was up walking next to me, with his round eyes, and his giant cheeks, walking towards my jelly beans as the little demonic creature he was. I kept trying to hide them, but his goal was to get them. I was scared, since he could start crying for the candy, and I couldn't tell how his angry Arab mother would react. For once, it didn't go wrong, and the little baby was taken back to his seat, right next to me.
Really good blog, Pretty funny also
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