So I am early at the airport, I cannot abide the extra stress of rushing at airports when it’s already right up there on the list of things that are quite stressful.. I am super early. I drag my suitcases to a trolley and using a combination that looks something like a SDHP, a lurch & a little prayer I manage to hump them onto it. It’s not pretty but it does the job.

I wheel my trolley straight past the lifts, realise then make my way back to find a lady ramming her wheelchair bound companion into the side of someones luggage looking very confused as to why this is not making the wheelchair go into the lift, I gesture helpfully, she glares, I slink off to the other lift.

In contrast to this, once I have dragged my trolley all the way to the final lift at departures there are two girls so helpfully trying to hold the lift and move their luggage out of the way that it restores my faith in human kind. ‘Are you on time?’ one of the girls says to me, I reply explaining my super earliness. ‘My flight is in 45 minutes’ and she says this in such a calm matter of fact way I wonder who she is and where she is flying to that it doesn’t appear to phase her that she is almost certainly going to miss her flight. Maybe she is famous, she is very cool looking, make up is flawless, tattooed eyebrow, who knows. ‘Run, good luck I hope you make it!’ she smiles and saunters off without a care in the world.

I decide to weigh my luggage again on the more accurate airport scales to prepare me for the cost of my excess baggage. I am about 10kg over so that should be somewhere around £350, honestly you try travelling light when you are leaving the country. I head for the business queue, in the past I have found them to be more lenient, and as I am now at the dazzling level of silver club member, this is one of my perks. I explain that I know it will be over, that I am leaving the country, she is nice. She rounds down some of the extra kgs and omits to weigh my hand luggage with a little winky smile which is good as I know that’s also around 8kg over plus the 1kg or so that’s in my hidden bumbag.

I hate security, not because of all the things that they have to do to try to stop us from getting blown up, but because of the horrid, wretched, mean people that make such a bloody song and dance about it all. Take your belt off, take your jewellery off, empty your pockets, coat off, laptop out and all toiletries under 100ml in a bag in a tray. If you have lots of metal on your shoes, you’re probably going to be asked to remove them. IT’S NOT THAT HARD IS IT? Today I, amazingly, am in a queue of sensible people, but you cannot get through security without some sort of something happening can you? First of all I can hear a commotion and see some movement, then I can hear a very loud American voice. ‘Stop her, that’s my purse, she has my purse’ before the rather amazonian lady is revealed flinging bystanders out of the way as she chases down this poor soul who has now turned around with fear in her eyes. She is a tiny, pretty non offensive backpacker type with a slightly hippy sequin bag slung over her shoulder. I thought for a second the amazon woman was going to rugby tackle her but instead in this rather exciting turn of events, she stops dead in her tracks, quietly says ‘Oh that’s not my purse, sorry’ then retreats back to wherever it was she stampeded from. Outstanding…

Obligatory pre-flight mini Yo! Sushi then off to a lounge of my choice as the Cathay one is being refurbished. The lady on the desk said that the American Airlines one would probably be less busy as the other one is a pay for lounge open to the public so I take her advice and head in there.It’s not as nice as a Cathay lounge but I guess you are spoiled in there. I grab a paper, a glass of Prosecco and find a quiet corner to spectate. Honestly I am not a great reader, I make it through a few paragraphs before my attention is drawn to a man skulking around the wine carousel; much more interesting. I have been half watching and it’s absolutely hilarious how about 95% of the people here have been walking past looking longingly at said carousel, with the *but it’s 10:30am, is it ok* look on their faces, and then this trailblazer, maverick if you will has not only inspected several bottles of wine before making his selection, but he has poured not one but TWO glasses. This is the cue for all the less brave of the lounge to join team double park, and soon everyone is getting wine, why the hell not, fuck yes it’s a 10:30am wine partteee in the American Airlines lounge. The two Australian girls sat next to me make the discovery there is a drink called Britvic and this is just like the most fucking A M A Zing thing ever because OMG one of them is called Brit and the other is called Vic *mindblown* this is then followed by numerous failed selfie attempts with the can; I half want to offer to take their photo but am enjoying the spectacle of how they are even shitter at selfie taking than me. I select two particularly crunchie hash browns to go with my second Prosecco before heading down to my flight.

I can hear the beeping of one of those airport car things going past me and who should be waving out of it at me with her credit card? The girl from the lift this morning – still totally un-phased – ‘I just missed two flights’ she beams at me then cackles ‘bye babe, safe trip’ who does that? Misses two flights? Two flights and is still smiling? Maybe she is drunk, or on drugs, or perhaps both, who knows…

I get on at the first opportunity as I have my huge backpack and I want to get a locker space for it, I settle into my seat, check out the films, confirm my strict vegetarian jain meal, and fall asleep. I wake up an hour later, and we are still on the runway GAH. I fall asleep again and am awoken by my meal being delivered. We are in the air…

One thought on “Airporting

  1. Hey there Noush!! So glad to see from your FB post that you arrived safely in Vietnam. Reading your latest blog…….I have absolutely no idea how you can remain asleep during take off.!! Love reading about your adventures xx

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