Bag in a Bag in a Bag (and other bags)
Last night I had a dream that my aeroplane seat was lacking a television and, as a result, the air hostess offered to do something about it. I was praying for an upgrade, but she led me through to a big television lounge. Not thinking anything unusual about this, I said that no, this still wasn't acceptable, and she smiled and I had a feeling that finally she was going to upgrade me. She led me through various seating and then through an open-air cafe (which was pretty windy, being ten thousand feet up in the air) and onwards passed the open air swimming pool, where we had to go down the slide to get through into first class (by this point in my dream I was beginning to think that this was all a little unusual).
We never made it as I woke up. I panicked about my tickets and had to get out of bed at goodness-knows-what-o'clock and check that the time on them was 21:45 and not 09:45. I lay in bed wondering what sort of things you must have to say to be upgraded and resolved that, actually, being me that I would never employ any of the tactics that I was conjouring up (which became more and more bizarre as the state of half-awake-half-asleep seemed to tilt towards the latter) and that I was resigned to cattle class for the rest of my days, or at least certainly on this flight.
I phoned Air New Zealand in a last ditch attempt to find someone who knew what the hell they were talking about and would actually consider being quite nice to me.
I struck gold.
The lovely Kiwi on the end of the phone was my saviour, my knight in shining armour. He told me that yes, we could take hand luggage and even had some witty banter about the woman who'd grounded a plane in the US due to hand cream (now, it divulges, something to do with claustrophobia). He was wonderful. I could have kissed him. He even told me to have a lovely journey home.
So, in order to combat all scenarios, I have spent a considerable amount of thought process in designing my baggage. This, from the WebStress, is quite unusual as my boyfriend and I usually travel everywhere with our belongings thrown randomly in the car in a variety of Tesco carrier bags.
I have one hard laptop carry on case, complete with PC and a minimum amount of items to get me through a flight and not detained, all in their own separate plastic bags 'just in case'. I have one soft suitcase, designed so that if I am denied my carry on I can simply put the entire case in my suitcase and zip it up (all rather like a caravan interior), with only minor readjustments. My original laptop bag contains the excess clothes and will also go in the hold.
My bags are currently laid out on the bed and I have been staring at them in wonderment that I managed to produce such inginuity all by myself (with only one short phone call to my parents just to check baggage allowance). I almost want to take a picture.
So, here goes.
Last night I had a dream that my aeroplane seat was lacking a television and, as a result, the air hostess offered to do something about it. I was praying for an upgrade, but she led me through to a big television lounge. Not thinking anything unusual about this, I said that no, this still wasn't acceptable, and she smiled and I had a feeling that finally she was going to upgrade me. She led me through various seating and then through an open-air cafe (which was pretty windy, being ten thousand feet up in the air) and onwards passed the open air swimming pool, where we had to go down the slide to get through into first class (by this point in my dream I was beginning to think that this was all a little unusual).
We never made it as I woke up. I panicked about my tickets and had to get out of bed at goodness-knows-what-o'clock and check that the time on them was 21:45 and not 09:45. I lay in bed wondering what sort of things you must have to say to be upgraded and resolved that, actually, being me that I would never employ any of the tactics that I was conjouring up (which became more and more bizarre as the state of half-awake-half-asleep seemed to tilt towards the latter) and that I was resigned to cattle class for the rest of my days, or at least certainly on this flight.
I phoned Air New Zealand in a last ditch attempt to find someone who knew what the hell they were talking about and would actually consider being quite nice to me.
I struck gold.
The lovely Kiwi on the end of the phone was my saviour, my knight in shining armour. He told me that yes, we could take hand luggage and even had some witty banter about the woman who'd grounded a plane in the US due to hand cream (now, it divulges, something to do with claustrophobia). He was wonderful. I could have kissed him. He even told me to have a lovely journey home.
So, in order to combat all scenarios, I have spent a considerable amount of thought process in designing my baggage. This, from the WebStress, is quite unusual as my boyfriend and I usually travel everywhere with our belongings thrown randomly in the car in a variety of Tesco carrier bags.
I have one hard laptop carry on case, complete with PC and a minimum amount of items to get me through a flight and not detained, all in their own separate plastic bags 'just in case'. I have one soft suitcase, designed so that if I am denied my carry on I can simply put the entire case in my suitcase and zip it up (all rather like a caravan interior), with only minor readjustments. My original laptop bag contains the excess clothes and will also go in the hold.
My bags are currently laid out on the bed and I have been staring at them in wonderment that I managed to produce such inginuity all by myself (with only one short phone call to my parents just to check baggage allowance). I almost want to take a picture.
So, here goes.
posted by thewebstress at Thursday, August 17, 2006
1 Comments:
Hope the flight went happily and smoothly after all that palaver, both real and imagined (the dream, the terror threats, who knows...?) Sounds like just the kind of fuss you didn't want or need, but your time out there must have been fulfilling while it lasted - and will come again. Best of.
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