I was on a crowded airplane recently. I'd booked my seat ahead of time and chose one of the remaining aisle seats towards the back of the aircraft. There was a woman sitting in the window seat on my row and with me in the aisle, that left one seat in the middle that was so far unoccupied. We both expressed the hope that the seat would remain that way. The woman was very large and obviously cramped in her seat, but that meant that the middle seat was going to be an extremely tight fit. There was a tiny baby in the row in front of us, and she was crying incessantly, oblivious to her mother's attempts to soothe her.
Just as the aircraft doors were being shut, a slim man with dark hair came hastily up the aisle looking for his seat. He sighed as he saw where it was, wedged between the two of us. He looked around the plane rather franticly, noting the screaming baby in the row beside us. I stood up to let him pass, but he insisted, "Oh no, I don't mind at all if you sit in the middle." I was about to laugh and looked at him to see if he was joking but he was perfectly serious. I thanked him but remained standing and he grumpily passed me and sat down to take the middle seat. I didn't feel particularly warm towards him and buried myself in a book about a Scottish GhostWriter. (Which might sound confusing but its nothing to do with apparitions, more about someone writing articles, letters and even books on behalf of someone else. I'll write a review one of these days, it's an interest subject. Ghost writing is apparently considered the second oldest profession in the world).
Anyway back to the plane. I'd decided my male companion was an obnoxious pig for suggesting I sit in the middle. My views soon changed. He started talking to the lady by the window. I hadn't noticed a large brown crucifix hanging down by her waist. It turned out that she was a Catholic sister who lived in a very remote village and was on her way to a family reunion on the other side of the country. It emerged that our friend in the middle was a refugee from Afghanistan and was taking his citizenship test the next day. So CatholicSis gave him a two hour lesson in geo-political history regaling him with what seemed like the name of every river in the country, who the founding fathers were and what colour underpants they wore (ok maybe not, she's a nun after all) and how are local government is run when its at home. She was entertaining for the other passengers, I learned quite a lot about the country that I didn't know, although to be honest, I did't know where her "off" button resided. I wondered if I shook the crucifix, would that have any effect? I half thought she'd been in a closed order and not allowed to talk, and maybe she was making up for lost time.
We also learned that supposedly obnoxious gentleman was en route from a business trip to Japan so Lord only knows how many hours he had been travelling. I forgave him for the indiscretion - if I'd been him after a 15 hour flight, I'd try to avoid another five hours sitting in cramped quarters. All the while the baby in front of us screeched like she was being attacked by three-headed green monsters, except for eerie moments of quiet when a complete stranger from the row behind us, picked up the baby and was able to soothe her for a few minutes before handing her back to the grateful mother. The baby then yelled again for all she was worth.
In between the CatholicSis regaling tales of historical minutae that I'm pretty darn certain are not on anyone's citizenship test, the Afghan trying to understand what the heck she was talking about, a man snoring rather loudly in the row behind us and the relentlessly screaming baby monopolizing attention in front of us, you'll forgive me if I lashed into a bottle of rather good French wine to anaesthetize myself from the effects of such mayhem. By the time we reached our destination, I was rather befuddled and didn't know which way was up, I just needed to get off that damn plane and get to somewhere with a bit of peace and quiet. I then had to contend with a taxi driver who, after a forty dollar cab ride, got extremely upset that I did not have cash. I did happen to have cash on me, but I was damned if I was going to give it to MrStroppyCabDriver, so I stood my ground and insisted on paying him by credit card. When we got to the hotel, I was expected to give a tip to the doorman for moving my luggage for all of ten metres. I gave him a dollar for his pains.
When I finally got to my hotel room late at night, I was exhausted, starving and in a foul mood. So in that frame of mind, I headed down to the hotel dining room in search of food and more adventures .... and that tale is to be continued on another fine day.
