June 2nd, 1989
Flight to Gerona, Spain
It’s four thirty in the morning (technically the 3rd) and we’re on the tarmac, awaiting clearance, so the flight can take off. Ironically, we’ve been sitting on the ground longer than the actual flight time will be. The crew announcement only mentioned a “technical issue” and surprisingly, none of the passengers thought to ask what that actually meant!
I’m wedged between two burly guys I saw stumbling, drunk, around the terminal and that was hours ago. The smell of booze emanating from each of them is actually making me feel sick. I’m hoping they’ll fall asleep and wake up when we land in Spain. That is, if we ever get off the ground.
I feel sorry for the crew on this flight. I remember nights like this when I worked for Air Europe and they’re not fond memories. It’s bad enough having a taking off slot in the early hours of the morning but then to be delayed on top of it is just hell.
And sadly, when we do eventually arrive in Spain, I still won’t be in the same country as my boyfriend!