The Plane

When I go on holiday I tend to go to North America, my last two holidays were Vancouver in 2000 and Florida in 2002. This year we were going back to Vancouver, to see which area we wanted to buy a house in. This has been delayed as my pregnant wife being unable to travel long haul; thanks honey. (Ducks)

I have no intention of going back to America as they are introducing Visaís for UK visitors, everyone Iíve spoke to says exactly the same thing. Seriously Americans, wave goodbye to your UK tourists. Oh you donít care? UK tourists pump 2 billion dollars a year into New York alone. Florida rakes in even more than that, trust me on this, you will care, as this is going to hurt the US economy at a time it canít afford it.

Heading off to Italy is my first short hop holiday, and my first beach holiday as an adult. The good thing about this is the flight is only 3 hours; although I miss going to Canada, the short time flying is a big plus. The check in is as long as the flight, although the airport guide dog would speed that up, grumble-mutter.

Planes are small, confining and no way will you get out in an emergency; and you know the line from Fight Club about oxygen. In essence they are dangerous and if something goes wrong your odds of surviving are really slim. It doesnít help that Iím not loaded so Iím always in cattle class. What happened to the days of ocean liners, now thatís how to travel. Much safer and more pleasant, despite the historic example you want to trot out.

My only frightening experience in a plane came from a landing in Calgary, the conditions were pretty bad, massive side winds and pouring rain. The plane was all over the place as the pilot fought to bring it down level, everyone was scared. What worried me the most was the look on the crewís faces, when your stewardesses are scared you should be terrified. After a huge bounce and slide wobble and bounce a very relieved Captain came on and apologised for the landing. He sounded damn glad to be down and he wasnít the only one.

Aside from the safety issues there are a myriad of other reasons why plane travel is dire. I could focus on the obvious, the lack of space, recycled air, noisy passengers and so on. Letís take this as read, cattle class is inhumane and airliners should be taken to court over their treatment of us. Instead Iíll focus on what seems to effect me on every flight and I have no clue why. Fat people.

Fat people seem to be attracted to the seat next to me. Iím starting to think this is a prank played by the cabin crew.

ìAha itís that Jackdaw fellow in seat A43, Iíll just go spray fat attractant on A44.î Off she sidles, evil grin across the blood red shining lips.

As I settle into A43 the seat belt light finally dims, then, just then, while Iím considering breaking out a novel, the fat sweaty guy at the other end of the plane stands up. Waddles the length of the plane and oozes into the chair next to me, his suffocating obscene damp girth spilling over the tiny arms of the seat and into my personal space.

I swear if this happens again Iím pushing the fat fucker out of the door. Yes the fat body may take out half a country when falling from 30 000 feet but we have so many countries that the loss is worth it for my personal space.

Iím taking the PowerBook this time so Iíll let you know if this occurs yet again, expect updates either on my return or if I find a wireless hotspot from warstrolling; aka wandering in and out of 5 star hotels until I find one with a network.

Addendum: 1100 words on airports and flying. If I was American I’d be looking for a therapist. I’m English though so I’m off to buy a gibbon, a ball of wall and some swarfega.

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