Those who know me in real life, or rather are Facebook friends with me (which is really not the same, but in this case suffices) will know about my passion for airport adventures. Think of the Frodos and Rincewinds of the world, the reluctant albeit great heroes, battling the minions of Sauron and strange magical creature hell bent on violent dismemberment. Now imagine me, the reluctant traveler. Only instead of Mordor, it is the airport. At any given time of the work week, and many weekends, I am either undertaking the dangerous journey to an airport, or away from one, or I can be found at one waiting for yet another delayed flight, or am on the plane staring listlessly at the flight menu and thinking of the distant pleasures of the shire and home.
When I say airport adventures, do not imagine the run of the mill delayed flights, bawling babies and lost baggage. I am talking heavy duty stuff here – changing three trains and catching a tuk tuk in pouring rain to catch a flight once late in the night, or being caught in subterranean flooding at 4 AM while trying to make an international-domestic transfer, and medical emergencies galore – this woman who fainted ON me once, or the international flight which refused to take off because the passenger next to me seemed to have died – flirty co-passengers, schizo co-passengers (I once politely told a memorable flirty-schizo to not disturb me as I wanted to nap and he proceeded to hunt down every air host and hostess aboard to personally and proactively deliver the message to them as well). I have had other passengers take my belongings off the security belt, check-in people give me the wrong boarding pass, and of course, I have tried checking into the wrong airline and once long time back, boarded the wrong flight.
You get the picture right? I have airport karma.
Today, as I drove to the airport yet again, thankfully to not board a flight but, to pick up my dad and mum in law who returned after a long trip away, a list started forming in the brain. A list of lessons learnt or my own version of Murphy-inflight-laws. So here are a few which appeared fully formed from deep subconscious. Please feel free to add any based on your experience:
- The chances of decent food options are inversely proportional to the wait time at the airport
- You pick one item from the flight menu, and it is the only item you want, and it will be the one item that she runs out of just before she gets to you
- The more desolate the airport arrival, and more strange the city, and the later it is at night, the less likely that the cab you booked will show up
- The length of the flight is directly tied to the number of colic-y babies around your seat
- The length of the flight is inversely proportional to the quality of the inflight entertainment
- The less chatty you are feeling, the more the co-passenger will want to talk/be a nervous flyer/be a person you want to avoid
- The lesser the time you have at hand, the longer it will take to get to the airport, the worse the traffic will be and all the lights will be red
- The more tired you are, the longer the journey you are returning from, the more delayed the flight will be
- The chances of the flight being delayed are directly proportional to the importance of the meeting you need to attend
- The greater the distance to the airport, the greater the pressure on your bladder
Coming to the point of this blog, I carried a cake all the way to the airport and then onwards for family lunch. It was my mum in law’s birthday when she was away (remember cashew nuts from last year!) and we celebrated it today.
The apple cream cheese cake was essentially a mass of crumbly brown buttery deliciousness. I do recommend you bake it – but with three health warnings:
- You shall put you a couple of pounds with every single bite
- You shall need several glasses of water to chase down all that sugar and fat
- The batter of caramelized butter, vanilla and cream cheese is out of the world heavenly. You shall be tempted to bathe in it.
The husband (with great foresight) insisted I bake the night before, so as not to be rushed for today’s pick up. So we left bang on time only to have the flight come in much before its scheduled arrival.
I will never win this battle.