Monday, September 27, 2010

travel bugs



I just got back from my nineth (or tenth) trip to Bonaire.
I always think when I get home that this will be the last time I go there but then I will come across a decent airfare price and off I go again.
I like scuba diving in Bonaire.
The diving there is easy and I can cook my own meals in my rented efficiency apartment.
But traveling to this island 50 miles off of Venezuela is a bloody nightmare.
I get deathly sick every single time I fly home and say to myself, "Oh my God, I'm never going to do this again!"
But six months to a year later, I am booking a flight once again.
I am guessing it like when a mother has a baby. She is excited about the arrival of the new baby but when she goes through the labor with all the pain and suffering she screams, "never again will I do this again!" But for some reason you forget how horrible the pain is and a year later that same mother has another baby.
Air travel sucks big time.
It's just awful.
New security measures make things more of a royal pain but unfortunately, it is a necessity.
It's just gross to be crammed into these tiny uncomfortable seats for hours at a time. Airlines no longer serve food so if you don't bring a sandwich onboard you are screwed.
The worst part of flying that always sets off a nasty nasty migraine is the smells.
God...
Planes are so dirty.
They stink like farts, smelly feet, stale breath, dirty hair, nasty overpowering toilet chemicals, lack of oxygen and engine exhaust fumes.
Maybe I was a dog in my other life because this plethora of stinks launches me into sensory overload.
It triggers the worst migraines everytime.
I got really sick this time.
By the time the delta flight reached Atlanta from Bonaire I was searching for an air sickness bag. The airline attendant was urging me to use the lavatories. The stench from the chem-toilets was overwhelming. Everytime I used the bathroom somebody was banging on the door yelling, "are you alright?" "are you done yet?"
Just leave me the *&^% alone.
When we arrived in Atlanta, it was a marathon run to make the next flight back to Boston. I could barely drag myself off the plane. When we finally reached the gate, there was an announcement that the plane was overbooked. The delta representatives were looking for volunteers to give up their seats in exchange of a hotel accommodations for the night, a flight the next morning and a $400.00 voucher. If I had felt normal I would've jumped at the deal but my focus was to get the *&^% home as soon as possible.
I felt like a dying raccoon looking for a porch to crawl under to die privately in peace. I wanted to get home ASAP to retch and moan in the privacy of my own bathroom. I wanted to get in my own bed with it's clean lavender scented sheets, bathe and pack my head with ice.
I kind of feel bad for the flight attendants. They are under paid and over worked. They have to deal with disgruntled passengers and the never ending possibility of a terrorist or a mental ill passenger hijacking the plane *&^%ing up the lives of hundreds of souls stuck on this(stinky) sardine-can in the sky.
I used to like to fly.
I thought it was cool to dress up on the plane, have meal and be off to a new adventure. I fondly remember the advertisements for Eastern airlines "the wings of man" to get you to sunny Florida 'where you needed it bad".
Will I fly again?
Today I say "no" but tomorrow is another day.
Another day erasing the memory of barfing into a paper bag.

2 comments:

  1. You poor kid. How miserable you must have been. Glad you're now home and able to luxuriate in lavender-scented sheets. The birds must be ecstatic.

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  2. Yes, the diving is nice but traveling is just awful

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