A TERMINAL SITUATION
When flights are delayed, someone has to pay
Accidental
ITourist T was a dark and stormy day (the worst way to start a novel, but this is non-fiction) and a fully loaded Airbus was waiting on the apron at Durban Airport to taxi to the runway, but a passenger with checked-in luggage was missing …
A marathon addict, I had gone to Durban for my regular 42.2km “fix” (these days I get my endorphins from the chemist — cheaper, easier, quicker, painless).
I checked in to the hotel the day before the race. Spending Saturday evening in Durban in a hotel room is not on, so I succumbed to liquid and social delights.
On Sunday at 5am, I woke for my prerace rituals — headache and dehydration remedies were added to these.
To complement my dark mood, there was thunder, lightning and rain. By the time I got to the start, I was drenched and cold, but hypothermia was soon averted.
Later, I checked in for my flight home, an hour early, as is my habit. This is not Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, it is Hyper-Pro-Activity and benefits all, not just me. Anyway, the extra time was fruitfully spent addressing a now legitimate dehydration situation with the fruit of the hops.
Then there was an announcement : “SAA regrets that Flight SA010 has been delayed due to the weather at Durban Airport. The aircraft has returned to Johannesburg. We will keep you informed. Please collect a luncheon voucher.”
Being a patient person and a bookworm, I was in no hurry, and I could now switch from the fruit of the hops to the fruit of the vine with my meal. My mood had improved considerably since 5am.
With the plane once again returning from Joburg, we were given a new estimated departure time. By then I had graduated from the fruits of the hops and the vine to the fruits of the grain, in the bar. Finally the plane arrived and a departure time was announced. Waiting for the boarding announcement, I nodded off. The previous night’s carousing, the day’s exertions and the airport sedatives had taken their toll.
The sleep was so deep, I missed all the announcements, including: “Will passenger Konrad Brand still delaying Flight SA010 report to the boarding counter immediately.”
When I woke, I went to the departure area to see what had happened to my flight. The lounge was a lot emptier but also a lot noisier. There was pandemonium, with officials running around shouting, walkie-talkies crackling.
Apprehensively, I identified myself. After being subjected to some intensive interrogation, I was almost frog-marched to the aircraft. This was so unfair, I was
I could now switch from fruit of the hops to fruit of the vine
an innocent victim.
With relief, I climbed the steps. The cabin crew didn’t try to force the required smiles and welcome. I love applause, but not the sarcastic clapping I got all the way to my seat at the back of the aircraft.
If I’d been a non-entity, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but there were other returning athletes who knew me and, worse, I was seated next to a man from my company, who pretended not to know me. The captain made an expletive-deleted apology. If only I could have got the microphone and explained that I was the perfect passenger, always first to check in, first to board. This was the weather’s fault.
I wasn’t offered any refreshments. And at Joburg Airport, the luggage carousel emptied before my bag appeared. —© Konrad Brand is freelance writer