England, America, Trinidad, DONE!
It took a good 24 hours, but I finally got here. Now for completely random flight details:
British Airways: If you want your complimentary sandwiches to fly faster toward you than the plane to the destination. Should you happen to catch it, beware of the bacon & tomato brioche if you have cholesterol problems, a heart condition, or a semi-functioning palate.
Virgin Airlines: I love you. I love you wonderful hostesses who don’t understand why you would only want one nicely chilled Bailey’s. “But it’s freeee!” Never felt so good to have my arm twisted. Personal TV screens in each seat. Thirty new movies and TV series to rewind pause and fast-forward though. You know that one scene in Shrek Three? Score! Delightfully presented meal, Japanese style with tiny portions of everything. Eating with one’s eyes was just as pleasurable as the food itself. Having four seats to stretch across after eating was not that bad either.
Caribbean Airlines. Neatly presented sandwich. Tea and coffee came on a little tray, with the same tired “It takes the cup in its hand”. The sad mantra implied that there had been many tug-of-war with passengers who had tried to run – or well, sit off with the little tray the hostess used as a serving tray.
Any initial fear of flying that I had had wore off by the last leg of the journey. If God had decided that this was my time to crash and burn, then chances are that it would have happened already and not left to the last bit as a “Surprise!” sequence. What did make the trip uncomfortable were the cramped seats, but the scenery formed a pleasant distraction. Puerto Rico by night and from the air looked like a miners dream: a many veined goldmine lighting up a dark dark abyss. The cloud horizon, which could have been mistaken for some great and magnificent plain with the occasional clump of forestry, giant scattered Samaan, ridges and arches. Then there was the small matter of the full lunar eclipse on a clear Caribbean night.
And the greater joys of being greeted at the airport by parents holding out a small bag of Trinidadian breakfast snacks. Parents and pastry, who wouldn’t travel thousands of miles for a thing like that.
British Airways: If you want your complimentary sandwiches to fly faster toward you than the plane to the destination. Should you happen to catch it, beware of the bacon & tomato brioche if you have cholesterol problems, a heart condition, or a semi-functioning palate.
Virgin Airlines: I love you. I love you wonderful hostesses who don’t understand why you would only want one nicely chilled Bailey’s. “But it’s freeee!” Never felt so good to have my arm twisted. Personal TV screens in each seat. Thirty new movies and TV series to rewind pause and fast-forward though. You know that one scene in Shrek Three? Score! Delightfully presented meal, Japanese style with tiny portions of everything. Eating with one’s eyes was just as pleasurable as the food itself. Having four seats to stretch across after eating was not that bad either.
Caribbean Airlines. Neatly presented sandwich. Tea and coffee came on a little tray, with the same tired “It takes the cup in its hand”. The sad mantra implied that there had been many tug-of-war with passengers who had tried to run – or well, sit off with the little tray the hostess used as a serving tray.
Any initial fear of flying that I had had wore off by the last leg of the journey. If God had decided that this was my time to crash and burn, then chances are that it would have happened already and not left to the last bit as a “Surprise!” sequence. What did make the trip uncomfortable were the cramped seats, but the scenery formed a pleasant distraction. Puerto Rico by night and from the air looked like a miners dream: a many veined goldmine lighting up a dark dark abyss. The cloud horizon, which could have been mistaken for some great and magnificent plain with the occasional clump of forestry, giant scattered Samaan, ridges and arches. Then there was the small matter of the full lunar eclipse on a clear Caribbean night.
And the greater joys of being greeted at the airport by parents holding out a small bag of Trinidadian breakfast snacks. Parents and pastry, who wouldn’t travel thousands of miles for a thing like that.
