Otherwordly

Otherwordly
Showing posts with label flight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flight. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 September 2013

29.08.2013



This was the day that would forever change my life.
I didn’t get much sleep the night before – which is quite normal when you are anxious for the upcoming events. I woke up on the Thursday roughly about six am feeling fine. Getting dressed, finishing off my packing, making sure I had everything and still my stomach was fine. Things were looking good.
My uncle decided he was driving my mother, grandfather and I to the airport. This was the first time we had a sort of outing together in a family; what a time to do it. The journey to Newcastle International was pleasant enough. The family laughing and chatting away to each other, getting lost even when using the Sat Nav, everything was great.
Shortly afterwards, we were there. It started to rain. The rain appeared as soon as we hit the airport and I took that as an omen for what was going to happen; a bad omen. Since I had checked in online and printed out my boarding pass already it seemed like everything was going my way. My checked/cabin luggage weighed under the limit, my visa passed through ok and soon enough I received my flight ticket. Seat 26C on board the Emirates aircraft – a seat I had chosen myself.
I said goodbyes to my family just before the security check, making sure I didn’t cry in front of the family. I’m quite positive that if I cried, I would back out and head home. Getting my passport ready, I could feel my heart starting to beat out of my chest. It would appear that my nerves had finally arrived. Even the Security officer had noticed on my ‘flushed’ appearance.  I explained that I hadn’t flown in five years and in return I received a sympathetic look. This was where my bad luck decided to shine.
Reaching the luggage control, I placed my items into the given trays. I even made sure that my laptop was screened separately, my coat pockets were empty and my jewellery was removed. Time for the scanner, and of course it decided to beep as I walked through. All I could think of was fabulous. All I heard after was ‘please remove your shoes and watch’. Watch. Of course I left my watch on. Five minutes later the female officer had decided I had been frisked enough and let me through and it was time to collect my belongings. I quickly tried to repack my cabin bag squeezing everything in, and then I realised ‘where was my phone at?’  I searched through my bag, my pockets and to no avail it wasn’t there. Luckily a security officer had found it still in the tray that someone else had put back.
Finally, after a shaky start, I headed through to the departure section of the airport. I found my flight on the screens dotted around and saw that I had plenty of time to relax, to chill out. I headed towards an empty seat and munched on the sandwiches I had made earlier that day. As much as I wanted to feel relaxed, my mind simply wouldn’t let me. My hands were all shaky and sweaty. My stomach all twisted and knotted. My heart exploding in my chest was the final straw. I headed round to the entrance of the departure gates and rang my mum. I had five minutes to go and even she wasn’t enough of a comfort to me.
Flight EK036 to Dubai is now boarding at gate 26.
Making my way down the stairs, my nerves were reaching an all-time high. Alone, scared, nervous – not a good combination. Then a tear escaped. Not now. Please don’t cry in front of all these people I told myself.  After what felt like a long moment in time, my seat number was called. This was it; time to get on that plane. As soon as I hit the fresh air, more tears made their way down my cheek. I wanted to run back inside. Did I have to fly? I hated flying to begin with, but when flying with family it was almost easier. Here I had no-one and I was to be sat beside two strangers. I finally made it up the wobbly steps to the plane and to my seat; the tears had finally subsided. For how long though? I tried to focus on the screen in front of me, and even that seemed to mock me. Since technology had improved, the aircraft designers thought that they would install cameras around the outside of the plane so the passengers could watch the world pass by.
13.35 and it was time to take off. Well soon as the plane was moved into position on the runway, I broke down. I quietly cried into my scarf trying to disguise my emotions. It must have been more obvious than I thought as one air hostess tried to give me a reassuring smile from the other side of the plane, and one male cabin crew put his hand on my shoulder and asked ‘Are you okay honey’. I simply nodded my head. It was all I could manage without screaming ‘get me off this plane!’
Newcastle airport started to speed past as the plan made its way up in the air. My stomach dropped as I realised there was no going back now. The stranger next to me patted my on the arm and said ‘it’s okay, you will be fine’.  I explained the situation I was in and suddenly I felt fine. Sure the nervousness of flying was there, but every word the lady next to me had said reassured me.
Seven hours had finally gone by and it was time to land. I didn’t cry much on the way back down to the ground, but as the wheels hit the runaway I panicked. I remember all the previous landings I had ever been a part of but not once was there a screech of the wheels hitting the tarmac and the plane swaying to one side. You could actually feel the plane tip slightly as the pilot tried to steady its balance.  I would be grateful when my feet would feel the ground again.
Skipping ahead a few minutes of getting lost, I made my way towards passport control. Half an hour later it was my turn for my passport to be checked. Due to the nature of my eye-sight I have to wear glasses, but it was clear this was inappropriate for me to do at this moment in time. To make sure the person in the passport was definitely me, I had to remove the glasses and have my face run a smart facial recognition programme. The officer stamped my visa and my passport and I was on my way. Just as I entered terminal 5 at baggage claim, I saw my suitcase make its way around the carousel. The timing couldn’t be any more perfect.  And as luck would have it, the bad luck came flying through.
I had been told previously that a member of staff would be collecting me from the airport, but what they had failed to mention was where he/she would be meeting me exactly. Well after two hours of searching, crying, stressing and panicking I found my name amongst the crowd. The person definitely was not happy to see me. ‘Two hours I wait for you’. I just apologised and said I got lost. What more could I do. Turn back the time? The journey from Dubai International to my accommodation was unpleasant and scary. The driver was a maniac – swerving on the roads, nearly swiping the sides of other cars and driving with no hands sometimes. I sure felt like my time was up and I was to die on the roads of the UAE.
Ninety minutes later I had arrived at Madar School Accommodation. It was 4am before I reached room 116. I was happy just to have a bed at that moment in time. Locking the door behind and dumping my suitcase in the middle of the floor, I collapsed on the bed. That was enough for one night.