Swiss Flirt!

No one ever wants the middle seat when they fly! The only reason you would book a middle seat is in the vain hope you’ll be left with the whole row to yourself because second on the list of aircraft seats no one wants is the one next to another person.

The last time I was stuck in the middle of a row must have been more than a decade ago on a 15 hour flight from Brisbane to the UAE. It might have been 15.5 hours . It was the longest flight to date I have ever had and it had to be endured from the middle seat. I tried everything I could do to swap it for an aisle seat. I told them of my diabetes and limitless toilet visits, I had thousands of air miles I’d have happily swapped for some elbow room too but nothing worked. 

After I landed, surprisingly refreshed, in the UAE I was on the phone to a mate championing Emirates Airlines for their very spacious seats. 

“I barely touched elbows with the passenger on either side of me!” I happily revealed.

“You don’t think it’s because you’re maybe 60 pounds lighter do you?” And thinking about it I realised that was of course the reason for my new found space as well as also becoming horribly aware that I must have been that guy, that oh too large of a guy, who would be looked at as he walked down the aisle while passengers thought, ‘Please please don’t be next to me…’

So, the other day, I found myself flying from Croatia to Spain. To give you the full story I was flying from Dubrovnik to Malaga, via Zagreb. Oh, and Zurich. Because there are no direct flights, not for comedians!

Three flights would seem excessive to most but travelling is what I get paid for so although I may offer up some displeasure to Lyn about the journey it could, believe it or not, be much worse. For the purpose of this blog I visited Mr Google to find out more about this route. Dubrovnik to Malaga is 1276 miles and after then Googling Dubrovnik to Zagreb (246 miles), Zagreb to Zurich (377 miles) and finally Zurich to Malaga (exactly 1000 miles)  I found the inconvenience of the extra flights is costing me only 346 more miles. 

This kind of sum is my favourite. I can solve most arithmetic problems quickly which makes the fact that I failed maths at school all the more annoying. I blame my maths teacher for that, the quite awful Mr Lewis who I must remember to tag on the socials when this blog is published. He’d love to know I still think of him. Ooohhh, there’s a blog for another day: Me & Mr Lewis.

Three flights offered me plenty of opportunity to read, to catch up on some work and to continue my search for decent airport coffee.

After a lightning quick transfer in Zagreb I landed early in Zurich and my first job was to find the Swiss Air desk and see about swapping my middle seat. After a short walk following the signs they promptly disappeared leaving me no choice but to ask an airport worker if he could point me in the right direction. Bemused, he pointed behind me to a desk about as wide as the wingspan on a Boeing 747 and coloured red and white while also supporting giant text reading Swiss Air Transfer Desk. I sheepishly thank him and make a note of how friendly the Swiss are.

Two uniformed women were chatting as I approached the desk so I waited patiently. Seconds later I was motioned to desk 14.

“Ooohhh I do like your beard. It really suits your face!” I heard.

And with the most confused of looks on my face I then listened as she continued.

“How can I help you?”

“ I was lining up to see if I could get some kind of confidence booster, so job done!”

There was much laughter between me, my beard’s fan and her colleagues before I added,

“I’ve a middle seat for my next flight and I was hoping to swap it for an aisle seat please?”

She asked for my boarding pass and after tapping a few keys I was then told,

“I can give you an exit seat!”

“No thank you, something at the back would be my preference.” And now it was her turn to offer up a confused look. A few more taps and I had a new boarding pass with 31C on it. 

“It’s leaving on time from E63.”

And so I headed towards gate E63 thinking how well my day was going. It couldn’t be going any better. 

ADAMS! 

Even as I type this I am shaking my head. At the time I chastised myself too for tempting fate…

I waited in line at passport control and was stamped out of Schengen. Weird, I thought, as I wasn’t leaving Schengen. Patiently I waited for the train to E gates and then enjoyed the bumpy five minute ride. I couldn’t find gate E63 or any mention of my flight. Again I asked a Swiss Air uniformed guy for hep and was told with the perfect dollop of sarcasm that Swiss Air don’t fly from there. It was then I noticed the subtle difference between the Swiss Air uniforms and those worn by Iberia Airline staff. I needed A gates.

Sigh. Why would anyone tempt fate like I had.

Another train. Another passport control line. Another stamp.  I am back in Schengen and increasing my gait I reached A63 just in time for my group to be called. 

It was while I was sitting on the aisle that I had the idea for this blog. Notes made and my latest Block book finished and I even had a chance to stroke the beard that really suits my face for a few minutes before the wheels touched down and I walked towards the carousel and my luggage…..

Damn it Adams! 

Comments 1

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *