Who said that air travel was boring?

by Stanley Hawkins

As a writer, I often travel by plane. There's nothing like taking off to some unknown exotic destination.

 

Several weeks ago, I found myself reminiscing 37,000 feet above the coastline of Panama. I dreamed about the hundreds of flights I had taken, and immediately focused on the humorous events that unfolded along the way.

 

For those who argue that air travel is boring, I say, rubbish. Between ultrahigh security check-ins, last second boarding, flight delays, rude passengers and air turbulence, there are plenty events to keep you entertained.

 

Here are a couple of my personal favorites from past flights:

 

Germany 12 - New Zealand 5

 

Not to be confused with the final score of a soccer match, this Munich Melee happened back in 1987.

 

Rumor has it that New Zealanders and Australians coordinate their summer vacations to coincide with the Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany. Once there, the Kiwis and Aussies (as they are so lovingly nicknamed) find a comfortable beer hall where they can fully inebriate themselves, dance atop tables and eventually slug it out.

 

On this particular occasion, one group of New Zealanders scheduled their final drinking binge to finish about 5 hours before their early morning flight. They staggered into the airport around 2 a.m., hoping to continue partying, and eventually sleep on the plane.

 

It took them only seconds to get the full attention of the Munich airport police. For those unfamiliar with the Munich airport, the minute you get near it, you immediately see Uzi-toting German police, armored vehicles, and some of the fiercest looking German Shepard attack dogs that you would ever want to face. The scene would deter even the toughest members of a Chicago street gang, but not these rowdy fools.

 

On seeing the gathering police officers, some of the New Zealand group began shouting, "Heil Hitler," accompanied by a Nazi salute and goose-stepping pantomime. The police stared blankly ahead as the drunken group edged closer and closer.

 

Without warning, one man lunged at a police officer, taking him to the ground. Immediately, other officers quickly subdued the drunkard with jujitsu holds, while simultaneously beating him senseless with their nightsticks.

 

Sleepy passengers were now on their feet, moving as fast as they could to get out of the way of toppling bodies and flying debris. Two of the police dogs were busy snapping at the arms and legs of one man and woman. As police reinforcements arrived, members of the New Zealand group were separated and roughly scurried away to awaiting police vans.

 

Even though the entire event lasted less than 10 minutes, it provided more excitement than a full-length action film. What was once a lifeless lounge, had now transformed into an area buzzing with excitement. Those who had witnessed the action began relaying their angle of the story to newly arriving passengers.

 

I'm certain that those who witnessed the action during those early morning hours will tell that story to friends and family for years to come.

 

Equal Opportunity

 

Since the early 90's, I've flown on almost every budget (translation: cheap and often downright dangerous) airline that I could find. A shortlist includes: Yugoslavian Airlines, Aeroflot, Aviacsa, Air Djibouti, Kibris Airlines, Onur, Tower Air, Valujet and a huge list of others.

 

There is one airline that shall always standout in my mind: Biman Airlines of Bangladesh.

 

For starters, the airport lounge in Dhaka, Bangladesh was uncomfortably hot because of an air-conditioning malfunction. I was heading to the seaport city of Chittagong to meet an old friend. I assumed the nervous look on many passengers' faces was due to the smothering heat everyone was inhaling.

 

As an airline representative asked everyone to board the plane; people began edging closer to the locked door facing one of the runways. For this flight, there wasn't any enclosed hall to walk through. We could all see our plane roughly 100 meters away, slightly off to the left side of the door.

 

After 10 minutes of standing, many passengers began sweating, and their eyes began to search for anyone who might have a key to open the door. Finally, a tall, scrawny young man in a sweat drenched polyester shirt headed for the door with the keys jingling in his hand.

 

As he unlocked the door, the passengers almost tore it off the hinges as they charged towards the plane. At the same time, they were looking back over their shoulders as if someone was chasing them. I soon found myself sprinting, as well.

 

My first thought was that someone had placed a bomb somewhere in the lounge area. I don't know why, but it's unusual that people sprint to an airplane. Sure, this had to be some terror related plot that I had gotten myself into.

 

The plane was already half full when I boarded. People were quickly throwing their bags into the overhead compartments. Some continued to look nervously back at the terminal building, while others darted their eyes back and forth at both entrances of the plane.

 

I finally questioned a man seated in front of me why was everyone so nervous. "It's because they sold too many seats, and those of us who bought our tickets late are not guaranteed a seat," he replied.

 

What the man said was true. Only the foreigners and the Bangladeshis, who had purchased their tickets far in advance, would have guaranteed seats. However, there was some good news for the unlucky ones who weren't fast enough.

 

Those who get bumped from flights in the U.S. are compensated later with a free flight, or, they get a complimentary hotel room for the night, with some extra cash. On Biman Airlines, the last eight passengers on board were given extra pillows from the flight attendants and asked to sit in the aisles.

 

As the plane finally taxied down the runway and took off, I kept looking back at the unlucky 8 as they sat yoga style on the floor of the aircraft. Other than some odd glances by a few other foreigners on the flight, the other Bangladeshis stared straight ahead, oblivious to what was happening to their compatriots. I then pondered how they would work out the toilet arrangements at the rear of the plane.

 

Rubbing Elbows

 

8 years ago, I took my first Business Class flight. I flew from Manila to Los Angeles, and was seated next to the president of a large Manila based bank. Before the man even introduced himself, I knew he was a V.I.P. That's because the flight attendant kept scuffing up my Reeboks as she quickly served him ahead of everyone else.

 

I didn't want to appear out of place. After all, this was my first flight outside the straitjacket confines of Economy Class. Besides, I had sworn under oath to my mother, on this trip, I wouldn't make a glutton of myself when meals or drinks were served. I remained steadfast to that oath until I sat down and was offered a plate of Chambord cheese and a glass of Château Carbon d'Artigues to wash it down.

 

I couldn't help but chuckle. When people entered the Economy Class section, behind those drawn curtains, many were getting scolded for not having their seats in the upright position, or God forbid, not having their seat belts securely fastened. Here I was, already eating gourmet food, and I had a glass of fine wine at my fingertips.

 

Sorry, all bets are off, mom. I rationalized that it was necessary to experience the full service of Business Class. Otherwise, I would resemble a blindfolded man going to Hooters for a meal. Later, I could say the food was delicious, but for some reason, I didn't get a chance to fully enjoy myself.

 

About this time, the flight attendant was back to freshen my drink. "I just love this Château Carbon d'Artigues," I told the bank president. "It's much fruitier than the Savigny Les Beaune that's normally served." "Absolutely," he agreed.

 

For nearly 15 hours, he nodded, yawned and occasionally spoke as I grilled him about politics in the Philippines.

 

I then had a braised chicken breast in peanut sauce. He chose a delicious looking fish dish. I examined it closely and grimaced. "You should be careful of those tiny bones," I cautioned.

 

After my pleasant meal, I began to drift off to sleep. This time, I dreamed about an old episode of All in the Family. In this particular episode, Archie Bunker created a TV editorial about airline security. He said the best method to prevent skyjackings was to issue every airline passenger a gun on boarding the plane and then collect them at the end of the flight. Yeah, who needs sky marshals?

 

A flight attendant interrupted my dream by issuing me one of those scented washcloths. I wiped the amassing grime off my face, neck and arms. I was amazed at how dirty I was, even in Business Class.

 

I began to thumb through the toiletry bag that they give you in Business Class. I needed to decide how I would divide the contents between my nieces and nephews. Imagine that, Philippine Airlines had just provided me with free family gifts. Now, I wouldn't have to take a detour through the Duty-Free Shop.

 

Let's see, I'll give my nephew the comb, my oldest niece the toothbrush; Asia would get the shoehorn, while my youngest niece would receive the airsickness bag. Those airsickness bags make great puppets.

 

After we touched down at Los Angeles International Airport, I was having difficulty readjusting to the previous social status that I held before my Business Class flight. I still felt rather important as I strolled through the arrival lounge.

 

I was greeted on my arrival by my sister, brother-in-law and their children. The youngest one took one look at her gift, frowned and said "Oh no, Uncle Stan, not another barf bag!"

 

Who said air travel was boring?

 

Stanley Hawkins is a freelance writer currently residing in Colombia. He has traveled to over 50 countries in the past 25 years. Visit his site at http//www.stanhawkins.com or contact him by e-mail at: stanleythawkins@gmail.com