Part 3.
All this, and I still beat the plane to the gate. They were delayed in Dubai, probably also due to the rigorous checks that had to be done. Hey, I’m not complaining, the more they check, the safer I am anyways, so why complain about someone trying to guarantee your safety? That’s why I’ll never understand why people get upset when a flight is delayed due to technical issues. Would you rather fall out of the sky and die a fiery death? But hey, at least you were on time. On-time to the scene of your own demise.
I digress.
I watched them turn around the flight, in 45 minutes. Synchronised, right to the minutia. Refuelled, sanitised, re-sanitised, offloaded, reloaded. All in an hour. Really meticulous, @emirates well done.
The pilot even had time for a cuppa, a window clean, and a hearty laugh with the copilot. All this I observed, perched a good 45m away from the aircraft, and huddling away from every other human in sight, I was not taking any risks.
Finally, onboard, I managed to secure a window seat (score) and an emergency aisle (double score) with no one in my row (triple score).
Until of course, I realised that there is no window by the emergency exit, the flight was empty, the armrests don’t retract, and the air hostess man comes and knocks knees with me on takeoff and landing.
Drats, drats, and double drats.
To be fair, all the staff were dressed almost as much as I was- with cafeteria lady hair net-esque garments, and proper N95 masks. I was pleasantly surprised, and settled, very tentatively, into my seat, mentally preparing myself for the 4-hour flight, and even more worryingly, the 15-hour transit in Dubai Airport.
The Journey was underway, but my, did we have a long way to go.
(Part 4 soon, with a rare self-portrait!)
The wait, documented:
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