Flying can be a bit of a stinker

Flying can be a bit of a stinker

By Carl Gillberg

I have flow many friendly skies on my quarterly trips to the Eastern Europe visiting my Russian/Ukrainian bride.   Meeting online in one of those Russian brides websites sucking dollars out of me with every keystroke.  I quickly dispensed with the website deciding this woman was definitely worth a formidable pursuit and arranged to Skype her! Sounds dastardly... to Skype someone?  She agrees to be skyped and we begin our online relationship.  After three months of daily communication desperately wanting to feel, touch, smell and confirm what we both felt from our online virtual relationship.  The only challenge was 10,000 miles, 20 hour plus of plane flights, the language barrier and money.  Shut the door now.  Despite what seemed like overwhelming hurdles, I decide I needed to see this through and readied myself for the challenge and thus one of my greatest adventures of my life.

I am dressed like what I think is casual Euro traveler.  Jeans, not new, not old, but just the right amount of wear.  A white collared button down dress shirt and brown jacket with boots.

International travel to the Ukraine does not require a visa; although, if you overstay your 90 days within 180 days, you are subject to fines and imprisonment.  Trust me, you do not want to overstay.  Ukraine prison is not anyplace you want to drive by let alone be incarcerated.  I purchase my ticket trying to be as frugal as possible and, and needless to say it is a colorful route.  Many flight options presented themselves.  One of the options is Aeroflot, which would take me through Moscow.  If you can read this,  Добро пожаловать в Москву, у нас понравится. you know it says, Welcome to Moscow, enjoy your visit.  Ninety nine percent of the signs, road signs, airport signs, etc  in Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, latfia, Moldova and any other former soviet republics are written in Cyrillic.  A different alphabet.

With the magic day almost upon me, I realize I am ill equipped in terms of luggage.  After some Internet research, I go to REI  with the idea if it feels as good as it looked and sounded per the Internet descriptions, I will purchase a new bag for my trip.  I haven’t purchased any new luggage for some time and my old assortment bags will not make the proper impression.  I like to travel light for ease of transfers and plane changes.   I only want a carry-on, one piece of luggage.  I was so delighted at the improvements to quality and engineering with luggage.  The new bag set me back $240.00 but worth every penny.  I chose “The Osprey”.  It is rugged, stylish, superb engineering, with ample room.  It has wheels, a retractable handle and a conspicuous green color for easy identification.  It fits easily into the overhead and is equipped with a zip off backpack.   The backpack does not count as an extra carry-on since it zips onto the front of the main bag.  The main bag is equipped with concealed shoulder straps making the main bag back packable if need be.  A great design and easily the nicest designed piece of luggage I have ever bought. 

The big day arrives.  It is the beginning of September, Fall is in the air.  It is my favorite time of year.  My ticket says United and I am to leave out of LAX and arrive in Kiev 17 hours or so later with three stops.  I buy the ticket 45 days in advance and the price is not too bad.  Average fairs to Ukraine run from $2,300 and as low as $1,400 US dollars with advance purchase.  The three stops, Los Angeles to Boston, change planes, another plane change in Germany and the last plane change in Austria, then onto Kiev and into the arms of one of the most beautiful women on the planet.  This is getting exciting.

I start to worry.  Do I bring gifts?  Do I bring food items?  Will they feed me on the plane?   I am traveling economy international and I discover they feed you on these flights.  The airlines must feel it gives passengers and their staff something to do for 10-12 hours.  Long transatlantic and transcontinental flights are a killer on the human body.  Most of these buses with wings hold in excess of 400 passengers. This is a massive amount human flesh flying through the air at an elevation of 39,000 feet at speeds in excess of 500 miles/hour eating pasta or chicken and digesting.  What else would they have us do while crammed into a tiny seat nose to nose but eat.  You, your seat and the people you are sharing the cramped isle have to get entirely too friendly.  I decide to wing it.

“At the Airport”

At the airport, after going through security, I look around and can not help but wonder if any of these people I will be sharing my plane rides with are going to the same destination.  Are any of them Russians or Ukrainians?   I had not a clue weather any of them were from Arizona or Uzbekistan, but as I waited in the boarding area, I did notice a few things about the people.  People about to climb aboard a marvel of engineering with the ability to take all of these people smoothly to their destination flies.  Now more than ever before, I noticed the majority of people dress as if they were going to lie on a couch and eat a bag of potato chips instead board a plane.  I am not talking about the business class people, but even they are starting to dress down for comfort.  It appears to be a compromise in appearance for comfort.   Maybe it’s me, but personal appearance and hygiene look to be on the decline in our society.  I am in line to board the plane when I notice a large woman, about 20 people in front of me.  I spot her sneaking a sniff under her arm, as she makes a " it’s not working face".  Wouldn’t it be nice if the FAA enforced some kind of “flying deodorant”,  personal hygiene standard, or, at least provide some type of good neighbor protection to passengers? 

I remember my first pane flights in the 60’s.  My mother made sure my hair was neatly combed and dressed me smartly.  The men wore suits and ties.   Woman looked great in skirts hair neat and clean.  No saggy pants, sandals and,  overall un-kept appearance degrading the flying experience today.  There should be a dress code.

Walking down center of the plane glancing at the seat markers and realize; contrary to what I was told at the check-in counter, my B seat assignment puts me in a center seat fighting for an armrest.  I start to pray; Oh Lord, “please don’t make it a fat guy.”  I arrive at my designated isle to find the isle seat was supposed to be mine, is occupied by a large person, not sure it is a male or female yet, facial hair and all.  "Holly cow" I whisper,  then in my mind, "not the same armpit smelling woman from the line".   It was her, the same woman, big one with her head tilted back, eyes closed, ear-buds in, and mouth hanging open.  I started to sweat immediately and smell something?  Then I notice the extended seat belt.  I put my luggage in the overhead and her eyes open.  How are you I utter.

“There are a few things in life when you here them you say to yourself OMG or WTF.”

Three hours into the flight the food arrives, not a good thing.  After watching her balance her tray on her belly, remarking at her dexterity, she looks at her in-flight meal and utters “Mmm, me an beans just don’t get along”.  Now, I cannot really stomach another bite of my tasty meal.   I get an awful feeling of claustrophobia.  Cramped in my seat by this woman to my left and the man in a sleeveless t-shirt and baseball cap on backwards to my right, I just try to close my eyes and pretend I am somewhere else.  Then I hear, “You gonna eat that?”  True story, unless you hear this comment coming from a very quiet, very cute 5 year old with an adorable disposition, you have to say to yourself and maybe to the person whom asked,  “What is that supposed to mean”?   Why, why would they serve beans on a plane?  This has got to be some airline chef’s sick sense of humor?  I neurotically keep checking her feeding tray.  Five minutes pass and I think, she’s been a good girl.  The beans are still there.  Her arms are folded across her abdomen holding the tray.  Her head is back with eyes closed.  I can rest easy and I close my eyes again and picture my lovely Ukrainian woman for what seemed like only a few seconds.  I open them and I my heart drops.  The beans are gone.  The feeding tray is empty.  I look at my plate.   My beans are not there either.  I say to myself, Oh My God!  She ate them!

She neither denies nor confirms.  I look around desperately but the plane is packed tighter than a virgin on prom night.  Sadly, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and nowhere to retreat.  I look at my watch,  there is 6 more hours left in the flight and another feeding.