I knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. I had to get to the airport at the crack of dawn. Since the airport I was traveling from is closed during the night, I was surrounded by all the other passengers starting off their day’s journeys.
This was the first time I ever had to pay a fee to check a bag — and I didn’t appreciate it. I had carefully measured and weighed that bag to make sure it was neither “oversized” nor “overweight.” One family of 3 hadn’t done that and they were trying without success to re-distribute their belongings. At least my uncomfortably hefty one bag went through.
I tried a new airline that definitely felt like Sardine Airlines. I swear that I saw a crowded can of sardines as I surveyed the passengers squashed 6 to a row with less than a seat’s width as the aisle. Since this was a plane to their hub in Denver, it was fully stuffed.
But at least I had a seat. The flight attendants looked far more awake than I. But I was disappointed at their appearances. Airlines used to pride themselves on their slim, pretty stewardesses. Their uniforms were fashionable, and their hair stylish. And that’s still true of the airlines out of Asia. While not exactly slovenly, the ones on this airline looked unkempt, unfashionable, old,and yes, even chunky.
When the plane started moving, there was an unusual sound and the air being pumped through my nostrils had a strange smell. I warily scanned the other passengers and my seatmates for sniffles and coughs. As always, there were whiny children and one crying baby most of the way. I rather envy crying children on a plane because they are able to express their discomfort at being so uncomfortably imprisoned on a plane.
Sardine Airlines seems to be surviving financially because it overbooks, dresses their staff in cheap uniforms, and charges for just about everything. Want to check a bag? Want a snack? Want anything to drink other than the run of the mill? Want more legroom? Yep, you can have it, but at a price.
Usually I’m just grateful if a plane gets me where I want to go safely and reasonably on time. My standards have dropped very low. But not as low as their own staff’s lack of confidence. When I asked the lady at the desk when my already delayed connecting flight was scheduled for boarding, she replied with a sigh, “We never can be sure when the plane will come in.”
My connecting flight also had 6 seats across, but was thankfully less crowded. What a feeling of spaciousness when no one occupies the middle seat! Having started the day after only a few hours sleep, I solidly fell asleep.
It was a swift hour to my destination of Jackson, Wyoming, when the captain’s voice awakened me. I gasped at the sight glimpsed around the head of the person seated at the window. We were passing very close to those truly grand snow-topped Grand Tetons. When I was younger, I always took a window seat in a plane. But now I’ve switched to the aisle seat. That has certain benefits, but it was a mistake on the flight into Jackson that actually lands right in the National Park.
So, on this uncomfortable flying day, I have two strong memories. One is “almost” seeing those Grand Tetons while the plane was flying at the altitude of the mountains. The other was watching total joy as can only exist in a crawling baby who was delighted that the moving sidewalk in the airport kept moving even when he stopped crawling.
This week doing wild land restoration promises to be interesting and unusual — and a challenge. Since I should be sleeping instead of writing at this hour, I know tomorrow will be a sleepy one again for this dogged night owl.