How to get a bed in economy N
EVER in my life did I imagine that I would be the cause of the dreaded announcement: “Is there a doctor on board?” But, on a recent flight from Johannesburg to London, that’s exactly what I was, discovering it’s certainly a way to make an indelible impression on your fellow passengers.
I have always bought into fairy tales in which fair damsels swoon daintily to the floor when feeling overwrought. Lies, all lies.
When I fainted, just as I was exiting the loo in the economy-class cabin, I fell splat on my face.
All I remember is waking up on the floor of the plane with an oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth and the blurred image of several people looming over me.
By my husband’s account, there was talk of turning back the plane in order to provide me with proper medical assistance. Oh the drama! While a tiny part of me would have loved to be able to dine out on that story forever, the biggest part of me thanks the universe that the airline staff saw sense, no doubt saving me from a potential lynch mob.
At that point, we were halfway through the flight and it was more practical to carry on to our destination. Besides, I wasn’t having the heart attack that they had initially suspected.
Two fellow passengers, a husband and wife who both happened to be medical doctors, diagnosed plummeting blood pressure, which had caused a lack of oxygen to my brain, hence my sudden, decidedly un-damsel-like crash to the floor.
These two kind people used the airline’s excellent medical kit to administer oxygen, intravenous fluid and medication for nausea, refuting my apologies and reassuring me their services were often called upon in similar travel incidents.
Did you know there is a mechanism that can instantly heat the floor of an aeroplane? Neither did I until I was lying in the galley and the under-surface heating was ramped up to quell my violent shivers and raise my plunging body temperature.
After three hours, during which time my heroes never left my side, I felt normal enough to be carried back to my seat.
The next morning, in the unforgiving light of the bathroom mirror, I was confronted by the horror that was my face. I looked like the “before and after” identikit of a bar brawl victim.
Whilst the left side of my face was unsullied, my right eye was bruised black, my nose was bloodied and swollen and my lower lip was split.
It wasn’t exactly the glamorous look I had been aiming for when planning my holiday in my Irish home town.
And now for the postscript ... During the first week of our vacation, my best friend and her husband came to visit for a few days.
They booked into a quaint, 13th-century hotel in the heart of our village. While charming, this old hotel had excessively narrow corridors, rutted staircases and minuscule rooms.
Upon entering their room for the first time, my unsuspecting friend promptly tripped on the uneven floor, crashing forward and bouncing her face off a radiator. We ended up with matching black eyes, taking kinship to the highest possible level. You can imagine the reactions we — and our exasperated, embarrassed hubbies — attracted as we went about our holiday. — © Georgina Hatch
Do you have a funny or quirky story about your travels? Send 600 words to travelmag@sundaytimes.co.za