More Confessions of a Hostie (20 page)

These three passengers consist of a man in his early thirties and a couple in their fifties. The man is travelling to Singapore on business, and the couple is returning home after a vacation. The delay is going to have an impact on their plans, but they are sure that it will all work out in the long run. I like talking to positive people. They understand that some circumstances are out of everybody's control, like the current one we are in, and are accepting of this. They do ask if the current scenario is a regular occurrence. I have to say that it isn't. Many flights have the odd delay here and a few minutes late there, but overall, from my experience, the vast majority of flights are either on or close to schedule.

Running an airline is a business. Delays and disruptions cost money – and often a lot of it. This latest delay, where we have been sitting on the runway with the engines running for an hour, must cost a fortune in burnt fuel. Then there is the flow-on effect of rescheduling flights for passengers, and possibly finding and paying for accommodation for some people and so on.

I have been on flights affected by natural disasters or extreme weather patterns. I have been on flights disrupted by hurricanes, cyclones, typhoons, monsoons, tornadoes, fog, volcanoes, earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, high winds and, of course, lightning. There are just so many variables to consider when making sure it is safe enough to fly.

Today's disruption is not great, but leaving late to the destination is still better for the passengers than not going there at all.

When the captain makes a P.A. to say we have been cleared for take-off, the passengers cheer. It is not sarcastic ovation, but genuine relief that we will be finally on our way.

delays are preferable to other consequences

On this flight, not one passenger bitches and complains about his or her seat. Not one person screws up their face in absolute disgust when their meal choice is not available. Not one person grumbles that the cabin is too cold or the engines are too loud. As far as cabin services go, this flight is a dream. I have to thank the delay for this. After that, all these other things seem trivial to the passengers, not worth their time or worry.

Without all the usual time-consuming trivialities it makes a nice change to have time to chat with some of the passengers. There is a little old lady travelling on her own; I had helped earlier during boarding, when she came onto the aircraft in a wheelchair. She tells me that she had been away visiting her children and grandchildren and was now returning home. She was transiting in Singapore, and there was only the one flight going to her destination. She is concerned that she will not make that connection – and rightly so. I reassure her that we will do everything we can to help her. I also tell her that when we get closer to Singapore, we might have some information for her.

We do get that information, and it is not good. The little old lady and a host of other passengers will not make their connections. As I have already interacted with the little old lady, I volunteer to be the one to give her the bad news. I kneel down beside her and inform her of the facts, but advise her that the company is making plans to have her stay overnight in a nice hotel, all at the airline's expense. They will organise a cab for her the next day to take her to the airport so as she can catch the flight home that next day.

She is not overly upset, but she is confused. I reassure her that everything will be fine and that I will help her when we land. True to my word, I take her bag, assist her to a wheelchair, and then liaise with the Singapore ground-staff. The staff is undermanned and overwhelmed. There are dozens of passengers requiring accommodation and there are dramas-a-plenty. The ground-staff are struggling to cope with the situation, and I feel very uneasy about leaving this slightly disorientated little old lady with the staff. They will expect her to be able to navigate through the customs procedures, and then catch a taxi to a hotel in a city she does not know. Everything including cab fares will go onto the airline's account, but she still needs to get to the hotel.

I talk with my onboard manager and decide to stay with the little old lady and then take her to the hotel. She is staying not far from our hotel, so I choose to help her get to the hotel, check her in and then inform her of the procedure for her departure the following day. The taxi is being paid for by the airline anyway, so I can then go to my hotel.

The old lady is so appreciative of my assistance. I know she would have struggled without my help, so I happy that I leave her feeling confident about making it back to the airport terminal the next day. Even so I give her my personal phone number so she can call me if she needs to. She doesn't phone, so I presume she made her flight and then made it back home.

I make it to our crew hotel only half an hour or so later than the rest of the crew. There are several messages waiting for me. My manager has been nice enough to leave a thank you note; he also wants me to confirm that I made it to the hotel alright. I let him know that all is OK. I also have messages from several members of my crew inviting me to a crew party in the room of someone from another crew. That someone is Mary Gomez.

My last message is from Mary herself. Mary happens to have been called out for a trip that goes via Singapore. Being the party-organising-queen that she is, she has offered her room to be party-central. I am tired, and it has been such a long day. Should I go to the party? What the hell, why not?

The party is in full swing when I arrive, and Mary is in her entertaining elements. Some of my crew members are there as well as many, many others. Some I know, some I don't. Mary's room is a standard hotel room. If it were a lift, it would come with a capacity warning of ‘no more than eight people'. There are at least triple that number of people inside the room and countless more on the balcony. Finding a patch of bed or chair to sit on is almost impossible. Even so it is fantastic to stand and chat.

Knowing Mary well, I wonder if she has had a room party just to be social or is there some other ulterior motive? Ulterior motives for Mary more than not involve a man. I look around the room (and the balcony) and all the men appear to be gay, except one. But of course, Mary is talking with that one.

Does Mary get her guy? I don't stay at the party long enough to find out the answer to that question. I am guessing she does.

Will she keep him long enough to know his last name?

I can guess this one too: Probably not.

not all surprises are good, but some are very good

I sit up with a jolt. The room is pitch-black except for the glow from the bedside clock: 2.15 a.m. Where the hell am I?

I once joked that I looked up the word ‘déjà vu' in an interactive dictionary, and it told me that I had looked up the word before. What some would see in my life as a complete lack of routine is the only thing that's become routine about my life.

I lie in bed for a period of time, still very afraid of coffee tables, before attempting to scramble my way in the dark toward the window. I suddenly come to the realisation that I am in Singapore. I know the layout of the room, and there are no glass coffee tables here.

I open the curtains to take in the view. It is spectacular. I am never too tired to appreciate a great view.

Over the years, Singapore has grown incredibly, and the new buildings, particularly around Marina Bay, are remarkable. My hotel room overlooks the bay and the city skyline. I should really try to get back to sleep, but then again, I am tempted to remain standing there and soak up the beautiful view. I know I won't sleep anyway.

I witness yet another sunrise. Equatorial sunrises are amazing. I probably could have gone to sleep an hour or so earlier, but when that glimpse of light starts to appear on the horizon I decide not to. What's another hour or two without sleep anyway?

Just as I tuck myself into bed and prepare to resume snoozing, I notice that the message-light on the phone is flashing.

Oh no! It is 6:20 in the morning and someone is leaving a message for me. That can't be good news.

I am normally a positive person, but experience has taught me that early morning messages are not normally from other crew calling in to say ‘Hi'.

I nervously press the play-message button on the phone. In the few moments before the voicemail message begins, I am already imagining all sorts of scary and weird scenarios.

Am I being turned around?

Is my flight delayed?

Has something happened back home? Something awful?

Is it Mary-go-round? With yet another drama?

I listen intently to the message – it is from the company. Part way through the message I become aware that my flight, which was supposed to operate later tonight, has been cancelled. I am now not operating home, but joining another crew some hours later and passengering (also called repositioning, positioning, transiting, dead-heading or alternate paxing) home. I don't care what the technical name for it is. All I care about is that I don't have to work on my way back home. Yay!

Very rarely do I get good news like this. Flights and schedules change frequently, yet it normally impacts the crew negatively. My whole crew is now passengering home, and we are entitled to sit at the pointy end of the plane if seats are available. We are also allowed to be out of uniform and blend in with other passengers. That means we are allowed to have a drink. I resist the temptation to scream with excitement. Before I celebrate too quickly, I turn on my computer and check the passenger loads on the flight, particularly at the front of the plane.

I wait with baited breath as the screen loads.

I find that there are plenty of spare seats in the luxury zone. Now I scream with excitement.

One of the dress-code conditions while travelling in civilian clothing is to be in business attire. I haven't really packed for first-class travel, so I have all day to look for an outfit to wear on the plane. It is a scenario that needs little prodding for me to embrace.

I'm off shopping. Yay and double yay!

The last time I was forced to shop in Singapore was out of necessity, not choice. I had been turned around and sent to Germany at Christmas, in the middle of winter. On that occasion I had to buy clothes to keep me warm, and I only had short notice to get them. This time I have all day, and I can buy almost whatever I want – as long as it qualifies as ‘business attire'.

This will be fun.

I curtail my excitement for the time being, so I can get a few more hours of sleep. My biological retail-clock must be set on alarm mode, and I wake up just as the shops open. I can't get dressed quick enough.

A short detour via Starbucks, and I have a latte in hand and a grin from ear to ear. One of the real advantages of my job is the world becomes my shopping oyster – and I love oysters, real or shopping ones.

Singapore's shopping districts are mostly very westernised. There are some more local areas around Little India and Chinatown that are cheap and fun to shop at, but I am in such a good mood that I go straight to Singapore's shopping jugular: Orchard Road. On this road, there are shopping malls and department stores everywhere. It's a fashionista's dream haunt.

Sometimes bigger is better, especially when retail is concerned. I often find the biggest department stores have the best sales. I have been shopping all over the world for so long, and with access to so many choices, that the words ‘paying full retail' have disappeared from my vocabulary years ago. I have the time and a trained bargain-hunter's eye to become a shopping guru – and I am.

One such bargain jumps out at me. Normally when a sign says 50% off with an additional 20%, you would expect the clothes to be hideous – and often they are – but today I find a stunning ‘business-like' dress perfect for tonight's flight. As I step into the dressing room to try it on, I already know that all the stars have aligned today and this dress will fit like a glove.

It does.

On to shoes, now…

Back in my hotel room, I admire my new shoes in the mirror. They are divine. As I step into the hotel's lift I smile to myself. I have had the best day shopping, and I am wearing most of those purchases. Now I am ready for the luxurious ride home.

My crew is as excited as me when we board the bus to the airport. ‘Will we all get seats at the pointy end of the plane?' we all wonder.

We do.

I board the aircraft. As I sit on my throne (coincidentally, Seat 4J) I hear a voice, a very familiar voice, speak to me. ‘Well, well, if it isn't Danny L – Welcome onboard.' It is my friend and Dean's brother, Danny.

I am so pleased to see him. I had no idea Danny was going to be on the crew, and as much as I'd love to wrap my arms around him to give him a big hug, I am aware that there are other passengers seated around me who are not crew.

Regardless, he leans across and gives me an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

‘I've been doing a mind-reading course and I'd like to test a theory,' he tells me before walking away. Danny returns with a glass of champagne and smiles as he places it in front of me.

‘You are a mind-reader,' I smile.

He quips, ‘I know – it's a gift.'

Throughout the course of the flight Danny spoils me rotten. It is so invigorating to be the passenger, not the hostie. It is a completely different point of view. And I'm really beginning to like this point of view.

Airline food is so much more appealing when you don't have to eat standing up. I actually have the time to chew every mouthful and wash it down with a glass (or three) of wine. I sip my wine and indulge in everything I usually don't have the chance to try when working on the aircraft. I put on my first-class headsets and prepare to watch a movie I have wanted to see for ages. It is great to play queen.

Originally I was meant to be working through the night, yet circumstances now have me watching a movie, sipping delicious wine and even nodding off for a few hours. Then it will be more food, possibly more wine, then landing. This is fun.