Prologue: Day 0.5
If you read my last post, Midterm Season Aka Hell Week, then you know that I’m slowly making my way to the Western Hemisphere of the world. By slowly, I obviously mean at a speed of 885 kilometres per hour.
As a first time flyer on my own, which I highly emphasize “on my own,” I got quite nervous boarding my flight to Brussels. Not because I imaged something was going to go terribly wrong, but because, well, it was my first time flying on my own.
I’ve been flying for years. Actually, my first flight was when I was 3 years old. Yes, I was about 3 years old when my family up and moved from Argentina to Canada. Since then on, I’ve been flying every single year. I’m 21 years old and I could probably say that I’ve been on at least 100 flights by now. Fifteen percent of these flights was in the time span of one month. It was our family trip to India and my father decided to plan our vacation so that we were never in a city for more than 2 days. This lead to us being on a flight every 2 days. It was exhausting to say the least, but so worth it.
So trust me when I say I’m no stranger to flights, I’m merely a stranger to flights on my own.
Anyway back to Brussels, I make a connection here. Which basically means that I get to sit in the airport and wait for my next flight to arrive since Brussels is not my final destination. My final destination is Manchester. The city of… Manchester United? Honestly, I have no idea but I’ll be damned if I don’t learn something while I’m there (I’ll keep you updated).
The flight was a turbulent. A lot of bouncing around in your own seat and seeing the wings of the plane look like they’re going to fall a part at any moment. Not to worry however, the wings could take a beating before falling a part. There was a moment that left me with some unease.
I was watching Murder On The Orient Express, quite enjoying the movie actually. It had a nice humour. Right as the main character, a brilliant detective plagued with the sight of criminal justice, was about to discover the scene of a violent murder (don’t even try to tell me I spoiled the movie it is literally called Murder on the Orient Express), all the technical equipment on the plane shut off. The lights. The TV’s. The PA System. The entire plane was as dark as the night sky outside of the plane. The only light came from starts (I got the window seat). At that moment, I had figuratively pooped myself.
Let’s get one thing straight. Planes are terrifying. You are literally suspended in the air in a giant metal contraption that has no escape. Add the turbulent air pockets that the plane hits when it encounters a cloud and now you’re in a vibrating metal contraption. And just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, IT GOES DARK.
After what felt like hours of praying to all of the Gods that I could think of (it was literally 3 minutes), the lights, TV, and PA system turned back on. The pilot got onto the PA system to tell us that he had accidentally shut off the TV program and apologized for the inconvenience.
Well Mr. Pilot, sorry doesn’t make the 3 grey hairs that I developed within those 3 minutes from the stress go back to where they came from.
Aside from the minor near death experience via plane malfunction, we arrived at Brussels at 7:25am. With a 2 hour layover, I sit here writing to you all (mostly my mom, hi mom) about my experience flying on my own for the first time. I give it a 9.7/10 (0.1 for each hair that turned grey).
As per my trip to Colombia, I will be posting a blog post everyday about my magical endeavours as I take the UK by storm. So be sure to tune in everyday, or don’t, if you want to experience this journey with me.