So you book a flight, right? An international one. And you have to be at the airport like an hour and a half before you actually leave. You totally get that there are lots of people and luggage to check in, there are customs procedures that need to be carried out, and there are constant flight changes. So you’re totally okay with turning up to the airport early. You respect that, it’s cool, no big.
So when you find out your flight has been delayed a couple of hours? First off you’re all “yay” because that means there’s more time to get the washing done, take out the garbage, tidy up the apartment, finish packing, read a few blogs, write a few emails, and possibly have an alcoholic beverage before making your way to the airport. That is okay. In my life, more time is better.
Then you get to the airport, check in, look around, have a bite to eat and do a spot of people-watching, all the while lugging your heavy-ass bag around cos you were too cheap to pay for checked luggage. You’ve gone to the loo one last time and are preparing to head to the departure gate when you find out your flight has been delayed….again….okay so half an hour isn’t so bad so you sit back down and wait. And wait. And pretty soon half an hour turns into an hour.
By this stage your 6pm flight has turned into a 9pm flight, and you’re pretty much done with the airport, with its constant announcements, annoying passengers and bright lights. Finally it’s time to board. Everyone is relieved and happy to be on their way after all this waiting around. Once seated you are subjected to horrendous music, but figure it’s only for a few more minutes so nothing to complain about….wait, what did the pilot just say? There’s been a bag discrepancy? Oh well, that’s good, at least they check the bags before taking off. Shouldn’t take too long to sort out, so you settle in and wait some more.
Hold on…what are those high-vis dudes doing with that scissor-lift? And why are they taking containers of bags off the plane? You hope this doesn’t mean a mass-exodus as you watch through the tiny oval window. You’re now secretly happy your luggage is safely stowed in the overhead locker and under the seat infront of you, as you find out there’s been a rouge bag placed in your plane to Christchurch that should be making it’s way to Den Passar in five minutes time.
More waiting ensues as the airport staff rectify the mistake, passengers get fidgity and the flight crew muck about figuring out what to do next. Finally, finally, around 10pm (4 hours after your initially booked flight), all the boxes have been ticked, and all the bags accounted for, and it is time for take-off.
They say that good things take time, and yeah it’s good to know that procedures are followed, and bags go where they are supposed to, but when you’re expecting to arrive at 11pm, and it turns out to be more like 3am, that’s kind of a pain in the arse, you know?