08 de juny 2010

one about impossible trips

I have travelled a lot. I have used too much kerosene and despite trying to compensate with CO2 programs, that kerosene has been burnt. Long distances that have brought me closer to where I feel at ease. On the way to new places.

And today it's about plane anecdotes. There are many, but the last trip to Barcelona, still under the post 9/11 hysteria... Is just worth being mentioned.

The trip was already calling for trouble as I entered the Amsterdam Metro. I charged my card with 10€, I paid with 20€ and computer says: geen wisselgeld. Warm up for the worse. Already slightly pissed off to loose 10€ just like that.

Train to Schiphol, I understand I don't have to pay it, given the OVV-card 100% commission. No control, good sign, because I am arriving just about on time to board.

Schiphol, 30 minutes before departure. Security check. Massive queue. Oops! bag peeping!
When being searched the officials realise I left two heads of a drill in my handbag. No biggy, no sharp point, no threat...

Boarding. Typically I sit at the back and even being one of the last to board in, there are still people blocking the hallway trying to fit their belongings. I don't understand why they need so long and why can't they scoop a bit towards the seat so others can get through... Plane etiquette I say to myself, slight disappointment on people's lack of consideration... Nothing new.

I sit on row 27. This chick approaches me and says: "excuse me, but I believe this is my seat"
I pull my ticket out. Same seat. Stewardess comes and realises I got in the plane with the wrong ticket, the ticket back: BCN-AMST. Gotta love them! I made it all the way to the plane with the wrong ticket. Kudos to security!

As all joys come in 3, an image will speak for itself. I sit next to this delightfully nice Dutch couple and tará! As I am going through my handbag I find this:

Gotta love airport security. I tell them briefly how I got there with all the wrong controls and pull out my weapon. Luckily they laugh, maybe if I would have been in the states the plane would have made it back... or landed in Paris, which would have been convenient to pay a few visits...

En fin, whatever anal airport security checks, heaven knows all that can be smuggled.
To be honest, I must conclude I am happy my being 'disperse' fouled anal security check.

Selva vs police anuses! Rock on!