December 30th, 2006.
Current mood:
hungry
hungrySo i'm on my way back to the UK for Christmas last week, all is as it usually is on the transatlantic journey. I get to SFO in what i think is good time but end up with a crappy seat, you get on the plane and some uncle fucker with 20 bits of hand-luggage has taken up the over head storage space and the one next to it, and the one next to that. I'm a little bit tired and irrationally irked at stuff like that.
The plane takes off in good time, there is a small delay due to the plane arriving late into SFO but nothing bad so i get to reading, a.k.a looking at the pictures, in the shitty magazine i always buy myself when i am traveling on my own and before i knew it i was fast asleep. I'm sleeping for about an hour before being woken up by the food trolley.
That's when the first jolt of turbulence occurred. It was quite sharp and unpleasant but it was just one isolated lunge so i thought nothing of it apart from how turbulence always seems to happen when they give out the food. The rows behind me we being given their food and the plane began to shudder pretty violently.
I usually quite like turbulence, that feeling it gives you in your tummy is like the feeling you get on a roller coaster and i always think that is quite fun, until i remember how high up in the air i am. Then i get a little nervous. Usually at this point the pilot, in reassuring tones, will explain of how we are flying through a storm or high winds. There will be some form of explanation for the temporary discomfort and everyone will continue to go about stuffing their faces, albeit a little shakily due to the bobbing plane, but generally feeling ok about the bumps. Well i do anyway. But this time the pilot sharply asked all passengers to be seated and to be wearing their seat belts. No it will be fine in 10 minutes, just sit the fuck down. !!!!
I look at the air hostess, she is gripping 2 seats, her arse in someones face as she is trying to not fall over. She looks worried and uncomfortable. If she who spends most of her life up in the sky is uncomfortable, i am uncomfortable. She says in a sweet, professional sounding voice which i'm sure is fake across the middle isle of 5 seats to another air host "i don't think we can go on!". Can't go on with the flight?! With the handing out of the food?! Um, totally not reassuring whatever she meant! The pilot then sharply requests all the hosts and hostesses were to be seated and buckled up. She ditched a crappy salad on the shuddering plastic table in front of me, not even the pasta i asked for (United do very nice vegetarian pasta dishes FYI) and gets sat down and seat belted without hesitation. Mind you, i can't say i was hungry at that point.
The plane shook, swooped and shuddered violently. Everyone swayed about, bumped up and down and shook. I held my own hands and felt sick. I was actually really scared. It dawned on me, fuck, i'm in a metal tube hundreds of feet in the air that is being severely beaten around. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I scanned the map on the little TV imbedded in the seat in front of me. We were over mountains, i don't know the name of the particular troublesome range but we were crossing over from Idaho to Montana and cutting over a corner of some other state too (yes bad geography i know).
Trying to comfort myself i thought back to my flight out to Vegas in January. It sucked, it really did. It was very bumpy and the plane seemed to be under extreme pressure, my body felt really tight (if you're thinking of buttholes or other orifices here you are gross) and i felt like i might blow up or at least puke for most of the way there. The pilot explained that the discomfort was due to slightly more windy than average conditions, the altitude we were flying at, and unusual peaks and troughs in the air pressure we were traveling through due to the Sierra Nevada mountains. So i told myself that as soon as we got over the mountains we would be fine.
It took about 45 minutes from the hostesses being made to sit for the turbulence to end. That is a long fucking time to sit and wonder if this plane will actually make it. I wished i was with someone, but then i was glad i was alone as i could calm myself down. I wouldn't be able to be calm if i could see my mom or dad worrying. I worked out what time it was in SF, i imagined getting nachos, or a burrito. I was trying to think about normal stuff. Then i realised shit, what if i died and hadn't eaten a burrito, or nachos in months?!
I've recently been on a bit of a diet and have really cut back on the things i love so much but make me a total fat bastard, like mexican food, beer, pizza etc. I was bummed. What if i were to die and i spent the last 2/3 months depriving myself of some of the things i like the most?
The plane takes off in good time, there is a small delay due to the plane arriving late into SFO but nothing bad so i get to reading, a.k.a looking at the pictures, in the shitty magazine i always buy myself when i am traveling on my own and before i knew it i was fast asleep. I'm sleeping for about an hour before being woken up by the food trolley.
That's when the first jolt of turbulence occurred. It was quite sharp and unpleasant but it was just one isolated lunge so i thought nothing of it apart from how turbulence always seems to happen when they give out the food. The rows behind me we being given their food and the plane began to shudder pretty violently.
I usually quite like turbulence, that feeling it gives you in your tummy is like the feeling you get on a roller coaster and i always think that is quite fun, until i remember how high up in the air i am. Then i get a little nervous. Usually at this point the pilot, in reassuring tones, will explain of how we are flying through a storm or high winds. There will be some form of explanation for the temporary discomfort and everyone will continue to go about stuffing their faces, albeit a little shakily due to the bobbing plane, but generally feeling ok about the bumps. Well i do anyway. But this time the pilot sharply asked all passengers to be seated and to be wearing their seat belts. No it will be fine in 10 minutes, just sit the fuck down. !!!!
I look at the air hostess, she is gripping 2 seats, her arse in someones face as she is trying to not fall over. She looks worried and uncomfortable. If she who spends most of her life up in the sky is uncomfortable, i am uncomfortable. She says in a sweet, professional sounding voice which i'm sure is fake across the middle isle of 5 seats to another air host "i don't think we can go on!". Can't go on with the flight?! With the handing out of the food?! Um, totally not reassuring whatever she meant! The pilot then sharply requests all the hosts and hostesses were to be seated and buckled up. She ditched a crappy salad on the shuddering plastic table in front of me, not even the pasta i asked for (United do very nice vegetarian pasta dishes FYI) and gets sat down and seat belted without hesitation. Mind you, i can't say i was hungry at that point.
The plane shook, swooped and shuddered violently. Everyone swayed about, bumped up and down and shook. I held my own hands and felt sick. I was actually really scared. It dawned on me, fuck, i'm in a metal tube hundreds of feet in the air that is being severely beaten around. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I scanned the map on the little TV imbedded in the seat in front of me. We were over mountains, i don't know the name of the particular troublesome range but we were crossing over from Idaho to Montana and cutting over a corner of some other state too (yes bad geography i know).
Trying to comfort myself i thought back to my flight out to Vegas in January. It sucked, it really did. It was very bumpy and the plane seemed to be under extreme pressure, my body felt really tight (if you're thinking of buttholes or other orifices here you are gross) and i felt like i might blow up or at least puke for most of the way there. The pilot explained that the discomfort was due to slightly more windy than average conditions, the altitude we were flying at, and unusual peaks and troughs in the air pressure we were traveling through due to the Sierra Nevada mountains. So i told myself that as soon as we got over the mountains we would be fine.
It took about 45 minutes from the hostesses being made to sit for the turbulence to end. That is a long fucking time to sit and wonder if this plane will actually make it. I wished i was with someone, but then i was glad i was alone as i could calm myself down. I wouldn't be able to be calm if i could see my mom or dad worrying. I worked out what time it was in SF, i imagined getting nachos, or a burrito. I was trying to think about normal stuff. Then i realised shit, what if i died and hadn't eaten a burrito, or nachos in months?!
I've recently been on a bit of a diet and have really cut back on the things i love so much but make me a total fat bastard, like mexican food, beer, pizza etc. I was bummed. What if i were to die and i spent the last 2/3 months depriving myself of some of the things i like the most?
Then a whole new worry. So we get through the storm, or whatever the fuck is going on, as we hadn't actually been informed, and the plane has had a crucial bolt loosened, or something like one of those tiny bits that flap up during landing on the wing (i imagine they're important) has broken off, or fuck, can this plane make the 7 more hours it has to go before reaching London?!!? Arrgh. I'm just scarring myself more now. That fucking NOFX song about dying on a plane comes into my head. How annoying and thoroughly inappropriate.
Then i think about dying. It was that bad. Especially when the plane sort of nose dived a little before evening back out. I was thinking how it would just totally ruin Greenhill family Christmases, for a couple of generations at least, if i were to snuff it 48 hours before Christmas day. Nice timing. I thought how i'd write a fucking "blog" about it when i got home, i will get home, i will!!
And then as suddenly as it started, it stopped. No easing off, it just stopped. About 45 minutes of holding my own hands, heart in mouth, nauseating shaking, bumping and shuddering, just over. The lady sat next to me said "that was not enjoyable". She was not wrong.
A couple of minutes later the pasta i wanted about an hour ago was put in front of me. I scoffed it down, then i fell asleep pretty much straight away and stayed asleep until about an hour before landing . Fearing death is apparently quite exhausting.
Then i think about dying. It was that bad. Especially when the plane sort of nose dived a little before evening back out. I was thinking how it would just totally ruin Greenhill family Christmases, for a couple of generations at least, if i were to snuff it 48 hours before Christmas day. Nice timing. I thought how i'd write a fucking "blog" about it when i got home, i will get home, i will!!
And then as suddenly as it started, it stopped. No easing off, it just stopped. About 45 minutes of holding my own hands, heart in mouth, nauseating shaking, bumping and shuddering, just over. The lady sat next to me said "that was not enjoyable". She was not wrong.
A couple of minutes later the pasta i wanted about an hour ago was put in front of me. I scoffed it down, then i fell asleep pretty much straight away and stayed asleep until about an hour before landing . Fearing death is apparently quite exhausting.
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