Bonnie & Clyde

EMAS airline is being such a pain.

For starters, our 13-hour flight to Manchester kicked off with the land stewardess dully informing us the luggage weight limit is now 20 kg per person. 20 kg isn't a lot, considering we are going to a country with an average temperature of 5ºC. Most of my luggage space is occupied by thick, wooly, long-sleeved tops, heavy winter coat, long johns and packets of instant noodles I bought for MBF (my best friend) residing in London. I think my hardtop Samsonite luggage alone weighs 7 kg. No joke.

In fact, my luggage was overweight but because we did a group check-in, I managed to weasel my way through.

Our plane took off at 10.30am and we were served peanuts and drinks. Brunch was served around 11 am. We watched the in flight movies and I tried to sleep but failed miserably coz it was in the middle of the day. Instead, I played my PSP and listened to my MP3.

Had short naps of 15mins here and there but that was about it.

By 5pm, we were expecting dinner. After all, it has been 6 hours since we were served. Not wanting to appear whiny, we waited. 8pm came and went. My growling stomach got better of me. I asked a steward outright, “S'cuse me. When will dinner be served?”

He says, “10pm.” I went WTH?? You want us to wait 11 hours in between meals? I asked for hot Milo and sandwiches for me and my colleagues. MAS is crazy. It's okay if the flight's at night where everyone sleeps but surely not during the day?!

If I thought my KL - Manchester trip was bad, it is nothing compared to my Heathrow - KL journey.

After queuing up for 1 hour to redeem my VAT in Heathrow airport, I made my way to the check in counter. The stewardess, which I will affectionately refer to as SH, announced I was 7 kg overweight and she couldn't let me through. She must fine me £30 per kg or some ludicrous amount. Yeah, something like that.

My eyes popped out. I did not have that kinda moolah on me.

I did some digging and rearranging and weighed my bags again. SH shook her head and I rearranged my stuff again. I’d sooner rearrange her face as well.

SH sighed and finally said yes, like she's doing my whole family a favour. But she insist on weighing my hand carry as well. She shook her head and said nope, she can't let me through. It's also too heavy. I must have done this at least 6 rounds before she finally relented.

I have to leave presents for my aunt, mom and MIL behind with MBF. I managed to weasel through the coffee table book our UK film director gave me as a souvenir by saying I wanted to read the book on flight.

Boy, oh boy. Happy days are here again.

In my hurry, MBF bought me a bagel to eat on the plane, I gave her a kiss and walked briskly away. What a way to say good bye, huh.

But No, I couldn't get through the boarding entrance again coz I did not have my boarding card. I dug through my pockets and bags. WTH is it?! I ran back to SH and before I could ask, she handed me my card, saying, “You left this behind.”

No, I did not, you irresponsible twat.

You forgot to give it to me. How convenient. Too rushed for time to argue, I barged my way through and thrusted my boarding card at entrance again. The officer eyed me suspiciously and later when I got my boarding card back, I saw why.

SH has written note on my boarding card: “Please check hand carry at gate.”

What kinda of people are these? What's wrong with them? Isn’t it already okay that I got through? Does she want me to experience the whole thing again? The whole plane was but 1/4 full of passengers, so what's the big fat deal?

As I was inched my way through the metal detectors, I almost burst into tears. It's been a long time since I felt so small. I was in a foreign country, all alone, just left MBF (and probably will never see her again), I was hungry and cold. I felt shiite. But I told myself I mustn't cry, or else the enemy will be suspicious and I will have to leave more stuff behind.

So I unwrapped the MBF's parting gift to me. What a comfort that lil' bagel was. Suddenly I felt so blessed to have friends like that. I forgot all about all the nasties I experienced. Nothing matters more than getting home to Clyde.

On board, I got a window seat with a friendly Indian chap who disappeared soon enough so I got to stretch out on all 3 seats. I even managed to sleep most of the journey home.

Sometimes, in the darkest of nights, you learn to appreciate the tiniest glimmer. And that is not necessarily a bad thing altogether.


MBF’s bagel


So long, farewell. I need to say adieu...


What a stretch