At my day job there are four of us going overseas on holidays in the next couple of months, and at lunch our conversation turned to previous travel adventures. Some people have stories about great trips, fantastic sights, wonderful hotels, beautiful restaurants and things you can only dream of. Me, I have lots of disaster stories.
If anyone on a plane is going to get covered in food it will be me, and I don’t even need turbulence. On a trip from LA to Auckland the passenger behind me stood up and hit the air hostess’ arm as she collected the breakfast dishes and I had baked beans and bacon all down my back. The staff were lovely and cleaned me up as best they could. Their horror was complete when they realised I was in the seat that got the random survey. I have also had a passenger sitting next to me drop a full bottle of beer in my lap and someone else douse me with a cup of water.
I caught a plane that no longer connect and ended up stranded in Auckland airport for eleven hours with two small kids. I could have swum to Sydney in less time. No offence to my Kiwi friends, but their is not a lot to do in Auckland airport. I kept nodding off and my kids would shake me and tell me they would be kidnapped if I slept. Towards the end I was thinking of offering them to the next passing stranger.
No matter how bad my flights have been I never had anything as horrible as what
happened to my husband. I should start by saying when the dude at the airport asks if you packed your own hand luggage or watched the person who did the right answer would be yes. My husband lets me pack his bags and rarely pays attention. On this occasion he was travelling alone back to Australia from the UK and he was bringing a food processor with him. This was back in the 1990’s when security wasn’t so strict but even back then putting the blades for a food processor in your hand luggage was a bad idea. They screened his bag and asked if he knew what was in there and he said no, and no to ‘did he watch me pack the bag.’
They grabbed his bag and two men walked him off to a security room to question him. After he explained what the blades were for, and why he had them, he was allowed to go through to the plane and fly home with his bags. I got a very irate phone call from a grumpy man when he got home. We look back and laugh now, actually I laughed then. Travel certainly broadens the mind and every disaster gives me great ideas for stories. So do you have any disasters you’d like to see in a book one day?