This post was inspired by Shub’s post about travel tales. Thanks, Shub! As I was thinking about it, I realised that I remember a lot of tales on flights.
The first flight that I took was from Chennai to Bangalore. The flight was pretty uneventful but the circumstances under which I took the flight were not. My cousin and I had taken the train to Chennai to apply for her German visa, I think. We just finished her appointment at the German embassy and she called her boss to tell him the same. And as she was talking to him, she realized that he was not responding. After calling repeatedly, a stranger picked up the phone and said the person owing the phone had a heart attack and was unconcious. Luckily, he was rushed to the hospital. So, the responsibility of informing the boss’ family rested with my cousin, who frantically made many calls and then decided to rush back to Bangalore. Hence we took the flight. It was less exciting than it should have been and was over in half an hour. (The boss was ok, if you’re curious. He was taken to the hospital in time and is doing fine now)
The next time I flew was when I was moving into a new country, all set to make Singapore my new home. Extremely excited, I was also extremely nervous to be flying by myself. There was a Turkish guy(I can’t remember his name, though) who was next to me and was friendly and was infact so chatty, that I wasn’t nervous anymore. When I reached Singapore, R was waiting for me at the airport. When I cleared immigration, I dropped my passport on the way to pick up my luggage. All the while, R was standing on the other side of the glass doors and watching the show. Thankfully, he managed to get my attention soon and I picked up my passport. I’ve never heard the end of this one. He never lets me carry my passport when he’s travelling with me.
I have more stories but I’ll save it for another post (part two ;)