Saturday, June 27, 2015
Hidemi’s Rambling No.546
The flight to Vancouver where I stopped over on the way to Los Angeles
was unexpectedly comfortable. The plane wasn’t crowded and the flight
attendants were all nice and attentive. In my old days that I had
traveled between Japan and U.S. back and forth every three months, I
used to fly an awful airline that I chose for its cheap fare. That
airline’s flight attendants were generally terrible. They were chewing
gums and walking with stepping on the back of their pumps. They threw a
bag of peanuts at a passenger and a requested drink was often off. I
once witnessed they crammed a large number of cans and bottles of drinks
that they hadn’t given out the passengers into their own bags right
before landing. They must have had a spree with them in a hotel room
that night. When I asked for a small bottle of brandy once, I was told
it had been all out. A man sitting behind me asked for it right after
that, and the same attendant pleasantly handed it to him. I asked my
partner if it was racism. He told me that it wasn’t a grave thing like
that but the attendant simply couldn’t lie twice in a row and had to
give it unwillingly. That airline no longer exists after it went
bankrupt several years later and was taken over by a rival airline. The
flight I took this time was completely different. Adding to the good
service, it wasn’t a bumpy flight and I didn’t feel sick as I had
worried before. The only glitch I had was when dinner was served.
Although I had requested beef beforehand, an attendant said to me, “We
have extra chicken, too. Would you like it?” I reckoned that I could
have chicken added to my beef and said yes. And I ended up having just
chicken, not beef. Beside that small thing, I had enjoyed the flight all
the way, which was quite rare to me. It almost blotted out all the
unpleasant happenings before departure and I even got to like this
low-cost carrier. But as always, nothing goes so well without an
incident when it comes to me. It happened when the plane landed on
Vancouver. The seat belt signs were turned off and the attendants were
preparing for the doors. The passengers were standing on the aisles with
relieved expression on their faces and their bags in their hands,
waiting for the door to open. As the door opened, instead of the ground
staff, half a dozen men and women dressed in black rushed inside the
plane. They were wearing bulletproof vests on which the letters POLICE
were written and carrying weapons that seemed firearms and others. The
air inside the plane instantly froze. The flight attendants looked
surprised too. One of the police shouted “Everyone, go back to your seat
and stay there!” We all sat in our seats again, with a straight back
for some reason. No one was talking and they were just looking ahead
with shifty eyes. The plane was filled with extreme tension in a
complete silence. I remembered a news sequence I watched on ABC World
News a couple of weeks ago. It eerily looked just like this situation.
The police rushed inside the plane aiming guns and it also occurred in
Canada. I began to feel panicky, imagining that a shootout would start
in any moment or a plane would explode. I thought I knew something bad
would eventually happen. I would have never set my feet on North America
with this trip after all as troublesome preparation had hinted. As I
was being swallowed by fears, a young woman appeared from the back of
the plane. She was walking with both her arms held by two policemen,
accompanied by another policeman who was carrying her bag. After they
left the plane, the rest of the police asked some questions to the
flight attendants and got out. Then all the passengers were allowed to
get off the plane. My partner and I finally reached North America and
took in air of Vancouver. I wasn’t sure what happened to the woman, but I
was pretty sure it wasn’t easy for me to get here…
Labels:
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Vancouver
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Hidemi’s Rambling No.545
I woke up at 5:30 a.m. on the day that I set out for my first travel to
U.S. in about ten years. Some last-minute preparations before going to
bed and tension granted me only a three-hour sleep. Considering the
coming ten-hour flight and the time difference, my next sleep in bed
would be 30 hours later. I remembered my old days when I had been to
U.S. several times a year. I always departed with lack of sleep and
arrived with a strong headache or vomit. I was afraid of being sick
again this time and added a new item to my bursting worry bank. I set
off on foot to the train station near my apartment. When my partner who
accompanied me on this trip bought train tickets, he found a 100-yen
coin left in the ticket machine. He told me excitingly, “Look at this!
100 yen! You hardly ever pick this big amount!” He was all smiles as if
the 100-yen coin would promise a successful trip. After the local train,
I took the bullet train to Tokyo and arrived at Haneda Airport two more
transfers later. My connecting domestic flight would depart from this
airport that amazed me with the new convenient technology. There was no
need to check in at the counter. We just went straight into the security
gate without boarding tickets, had our mileage cards scanned with a
device that gave us a piece of paper like a receipt on which our flight
and seat numbers were printed, and went on to the boarding gate. It was
as easy as getting on a train. I flew to Kansai Airport that I had never
been before. After I received my suitcase I had sent beforehand and
dollar bills I had exchanged online, I was headed toward the check-in
counter of the airline I had booked. The airline has two brands, the
regular one and the low-cost carrier. My flight was the low-cost one
called ‘Rouge’. Although their website said we could check in with a
machine, those machines were deserted and lines of people were formed at
the counter instead. I had prepped for a use for the machine online,
which was a waste. Since the airline has two brands, I wasn’t sure which
line I should join. The airline worker approached and asked me which
flight I would take. When I said “Rouge,” she repeated dubiously,
“Ro..u..ge…?” She sounded like she heard the word for the first time. I
was alarmed. Those who were checking in here now were most likely on the
Rouge flight. But the airline worker apparently didn’t know her
company’s flight. As she directed me the wrong line any way, I looked
for the correct one by myself and my turn to check in came. I handed
over my passport and my reservation was on the computer screen. Looking
at it, the woman said, “You’re going to Las Vegas, right?” My blood ran
cold. My destination was Los Angeles. What had happened to my
reservation? Was there neither ‘Rouge’ nor Los Angeles? I said in a
trembling voice, “No, to LAX.” She made sure of my reservation in her
computer screen and said again, “Your destination is Las Vegas.” When I
froze at her words, she threw me another blow by saying, “Oh, I see.
You’re going to Las Vegas the next day!” My worry bank ruptured and I
felt I was going black. The whole itinerary was disrupted and I couldn’t
avoid going to Las Vegas. I regretted from the bottom of my heart that I
had chosen this airline. I braced myself to end my trip even before
leaving Japan. Then, beside me who was knocked out and almost
unconscious, my partner said to her calmly, “We’re going to Los
Angeles.” She looked in her screen again, nodded, gave us boarding
tickets according to my reservation as though nothing had happened. The
fact was that she thought LAX stood for Las Vegas International Airport.
She was a professional sitting at the check-in counter and seeing
customers’ reservations every day, and yet didn’t know LAX. I was about
to leave Japan and cross the Pacific by a plane of an airline like this.
Now I realized that I was standing on the edge. It was time to jump…
Labels:
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