Showing posts with label seats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seats. Show all posts

Monday, 1 October 2018

Flying, seats, glasses, courtesy - missing links

On the plane from Malta to Belfast, I ended up on the last seat at the back of the plane. It serves me right for not paying for a specific seat in advance. I was just being mean, didn’t want to spend any more money. In punishment, I was right beside the toilet door and in an ideal position to study humanity queuing as it headed to relieve itself on a long flight. 



But as the plane took off from Malta I was more distracted by the lady at the window seat on my row who kept two glasses over both of her ears during takeoff. These were clenched with great force on either side of the head. I just could not resist asking her husband, who sat between us, why she did this. He told me that on previous flights she always had to suffer from pain in her ears for two days after each flight due to the change in air pressure.  One day a year ago a stewardess told her that holding two glasses over both ears on takeoff and landing would save her from this delayed pain. It did look strange but if it did the job why not?

I was a little concerned when we came in to land in Belfast because although I anticipated the glasses on her ears action, I had not anticipated that as the plane was actually about to touch ground she would take the glasses off and dramatically grab the seat in front with both arms screaming “I don't like this!” again and again. My confusion grew when her husband also grabbed the seat in front of him and screamed “I don’t like this!” repeatedly in strange unison with his wife. Wanting to do my bit to distract them, I asked the husband what he did for a living. It turns out he builds planes. I wondered what he knew about planes that I didn’t!

On arriving in Belfast Airport I was faced with the most annoying aspect of travel in N. Ireland - the transport system is not integrated.  The train lines actually run right to the airport but the trains do not run on this line anymore.  



Instead, the nearest working train station is only a 10/15 minute drive away in Antrim Town.  Perversely, the only bus running to this train station is every hour.  So you face an incredible wait unless you happen to be lucky and the timing is perfect.  You can catch a bus to Belfast fairly regularly from the airport but since my family home is north it goes against the grain to head south in order to go north.  There is consistency in N. Ireland in that the only other airport the George Best Airport is also not connected to the railway system.  This is even more perverse as the train runs to a halt called Sydenham halt hidden out of the way and a good walk from the airport.  I have no idea why in Northern Ireland our transport system is not connected to the rail service. 



It is either to annoy visitors or for the benefit of local taxi drivers who benefit greatly from this odd state of affairs.

Eventually, I managed to catch the early bus to Antrim and find myself on the train heading north. It is quite a new train and the carriages are surprisingly clean. However, the overhead information screen in each carriage is completely wrong. For some reason, it tells you that the forthcoming station is the one that you've just left. Everyone who is local seems to know this. Perhaps it's some kind of strange joke played on those strange to the country.

As I walk on the train looking for a seat I am aware of that UK phenomenon of booking seats. This involves people placing on the empty seat beside them their newspaper, their bag, their coat, their umbrella and any shopping they may have. All of this is a barricade to prevent someone sitting on the empty seat beside them.  



Fortunately, UK citizens are only bluffing. One simple polite request “Is this seat free?” will instantly get the response “Of course please sit down!” and all offending material is removed. I love the fact that their intent is obvious but their instinctive good manners require an instant surrender.  


I'm also shocked by their politeness. The default position is to apologise. Queueing is sacrosanct. One is never meant to push in.  Queueing for the British is a semi-religious practice. Apologising is also so ingrained that if you walk into a British person they will instantly apologise to you.  I find it so lovable and quaint.  It is only when you live abroad that such things make you smile so much.