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Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The American
The US is bankrupt. So is Europe and Argentina. Australia is too but will not be aware of it for 10 years. This was the cheery world economic summary from another survivor of flight AR1695/1699. He is a US Economist who tours the globe to speak on such matters.
Party big, before its all over.
Party big, before its all over.
Hell
We’re not sure how we went on those tests now. We are surrounded by 300 volcanos and being led down a river valley. The river Styx perhaps? There is a foreboding mist all around.
The mist suddenly lifts. We can see a beautiful lake and the volcanos on the other side. The bus drops us off at another jaw dropper of a hotel at sunset. Cabanos Del Lago, Puerto Varas, Chile. We enjoy a 5 star dinner at 2 star prices with a view of what resembles Sydney Harbour with mount Fuji on the other side.
In the very early morning, our zombie carcasses are ungratefully dragged to yet another airport, Puerto Montt.
The airport is brand new. Our plane will be half an hour late, yeah sure. But it was. Lan Chile seems to have newer planes and when they predict delays they are not just spinning you the next chapter of a very long story.
The flight was bright, cheery, and short. We’re in Santiago airport awaiting our International transfer back to Buenos Aires. We need blood. The Britt Shop Chile provides. We settle down in a quiet section of the airport undergoing renovation, next to a power point with a coke, chips and chocolate food party. Tricia has a new book and I have electrons coursing through my veins.
On the fourth "final call", Tricia finally realised her name was being called. Looking around our gate lounge we saw everyone had vanished. We ran (very quickly for zombies) to the gate just in time before they locked the airplane door. Who'd have thought a flight in South America would actually take off on time? LAN Chile, when sending Argentinians back home, apparently.
Zombiism will hopefully end tomorrow night when we will collapse to sleep in our own bed at around 1 AM.
The mist suddenly lifts. We can see a beautiful lake and the volcanos on the other side. The bus drops us off at another jaw dropper of a hotel at sunset. Cabanos Del Lago, Puerto Varas, Chile. We enjoy a 5 star dinner at 2 star prices with a view of what resembles Sydney Harbour with mount Fuji on the other side.
In the very early morning, our zombie carcasses are ungratefully dragged to yet another airport, Puerto Montt.
The airport is brand new. Our plane will be half an hour late, yeah sure. But it was. Lan Chile seems to have newer planes and when they predict delays they are not just spinning you the next chapter of a very long story.
The flight was bright, cheery, and short. We’re in Santiago airport awaiting our International transfer back to Buenos Aires. We need blood. The Britt Shop Chile provides. We settle down in a quiet section of the airport undergoing renovation, next to a power point with a coke, chips and chocolate food party. Tricia has a new book and I have electrons coursing through my veins.
On the fourth "final call", Tricia finally realised her name was being called. Looking around our gate lounge we saw everyone had vanished. We ran (very quickly for zombies) to the gate just in time before they locked the airplane door. Who'd have thought a flight in South America would actually take off on time? LAN Chile, when sending Argentinians back home, apparently.
Zombiism will hopefully end tomorrow night when we will collapse to sleep in our own bed at around 1 AM.
Monday, April 25, 2011
From The Other Side
We waited, with no information, all day. At 5 PM we were told a bus would be here for a 6:30 departure. It arrived a 6 PM. At the airport, our flight AR1695 was listed on the monitor as “taken off”. This means little as our flight last night ‘officially’ took off 2 hours late and arrived at its scheduled destination!
One of the Spanish passengers informed us our flight number has changed to AR1699 and due to depart at 8 PM and that the plane is the same one from last night.
At 9:30 PM the captain manoeuvred the plane, with us all in it, to the very end of the runway once again. He also revved the engines a couple of times on the way. Not a confidence inspiring start.
He did the U turn and applied full throttle with the entire length of the runway ahead. We got half way down and he didn’t hit the brakes. Are we about to become a burning twisted wreck of metal in the desert?
The plane angled upwards, and then the ground released us. We were in the air, just. After climbing a few hundred feet more all the passengers started applauding as if their team had just scored the winning goal.
When the captain announced we are descending to our destination, Bariloche Airport. Every second of the approach was stretched by the mounting fear. We went through a cloud. The plane jolted and a quarter of the passengers screamed. More long seconds passed. We went through another cloud. The whole plane jolted and rattled. Half the passengers screamed. When the third cloud and jolt came no one screamed, we were clinging on for dear life.
I suspect this was the point we all died somewhere in the desert outside Bariloche. But it might have been on the actual landing which we recall as being smooth and cheered by all even more vigourously. There were hugs and kisses all around as the survivors of flight AR1699 bade farewell to one another.
Others stayed on the plane, they were headed to another place. They were not so joyous.
We were apparently now in heaven in the form of a Swiss mountain ski resort.
We were up early the next day to be flown by a catamaran down a lake in a wind tunnel with a bright light at the end.
Tricia’s waterproof camera was stolen. There are pick pockets in heaven.
A bumpy bus through a dark forest then brought us to a clearing where we passed the tests to enter to the other side.
Here we find a beautiful hotel in a valley fit for Angels, Peulla. Sixties music is playing. Our waiter is Manuel. But he no longer has to stoop to avoid being hit on the head by anyone. He also has a full head of hair. This is Manuel’s heaven too.
One of the Spanish passengers informed us our flight number has changed to AR1699 and due to depart at 8 PM and that the plane is the same one from last night.
At 9:30 PM the captain manoeuvred the plane, with us all in it, to the very end of the runway once again. He also revved the engines a couple of times on the way. Not a confidence inspiring start.
He did the U turn and applied full throttle with the entire length of the runway ahead. We got half way down and he didn’t hit the brakes. Are we about to become a burning twisted wreck of metal in the desert?
The plane angled upwards, and then the ground released us. We were in the air, just. After climbing a few hundred feet more all the passengers started applauding as if their team had just scored the winning goal.
When the captain announced we are descending to our destination, Bariloche Airport. Every second of the approach was stretched by the mounting fear. We went through a cloud. The plane jolted and a quarter of the passengers screamed. More long seconds passed. We went through another cloud. The whole plane jolted and rattled. Half the passengers screamed. When the third cloud and jolt came no one screamed, we were clinging on for dear life.
I suspect this was the point we all died somewhere in the desert outside Bariloche. But it might have been on the actual landing which we recall as being smooth and cheered by all even more vigourously. There were hugs and kisses all around as the survivors of flight AR1699 bade farewell to one another.
Others stayed on the plane, they were headed to another place. They were not so joyous.
We were apparently now in heaven in the form of a Swiss mountain ski resort.
We were up early the next day to be flown by a catamaran down a lake in a wind tunnel with a bright light at the end.
Tricia’s waterproof camera was stolen. There are pick pockets in heaven.
A bumpy bus through a dark forest then brought us to a clearing where we passed the tests to enter to the other side.
Here we find a beautiful hotel in a valley fit for Angels, Peulla. Sixties music is playing. Our waiter is Manuel. But he no longer has to stoop to avoid being hit on the head by anyone. He also has a full head of hair. This is Manuel’s heaven too.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Test Take Off Dummies
Aerolineas Argentinas claims to have fixed our plane. However, we have to wait four more hours before boarding. We wonder why?
It will now be 24.5 hours late. We've lost our chance to hike the stunning NP at Bariloche (according to photos) and now have a series of four 1 night stops until Qantas might whisk us back to OZ.
However, we are all expecting to once again serve merely to test their boarding procedures and act as test dummies for the captain's aborted take-off practice pleasure.
If we don't make it, so long and thanks for all the fish.
It will now be 24.5 hours late. We've lost our chance to hike the stunning NP at Bariloche (according to photos) and now have a series of four 1 night stops until Qantas might whisk us back to OZ.
However, we are all expecting to once again serve merely to test their boarding procedures and act as test dummies for the captain's aborted take-off practice pleasure.
If we don't make it, so long and thanks for all the fish.
Red Rock West
The flight zoomed down the runway 1 hour late and then the brakes went on hard, we pulled up just before the end of the runway. We were told a system check was needed. The captain left. All passengers were held captive for an hour. We then got the good news that the problem was fixed and our flight would continue. This time the plane taxied to the very end of the runway and zoomed off just to slam on the brakes again. I’m outa here.
We got no information in English. Some passengers attempted to translate but there was considerable difference in the stories we got.
We followed like sheep to a check-in desk, no idea why. We were given a bit of paper, apparently a hotel reservation. Buses arrived and took us to various hotels around town.
A new oil filter was to be flown in to repair our plane sometime tomorrow. Maybe.
We were fed grossly cheesy pizza and coke. Our room hadn’t been used in 20 years but we were happy to have a warm place to crash instead of a twisted wreck in the desert plains at the end of the airport runway.
I investigated all possible ways to get out of here. There are no other flights tomorrow, there were never going to be. The bus takes 2.5 days to get to our destination. There are no small aircraft operators and no trains. It reminded me of Nicolas Cage trying to get out of Red Rock West but always finishing up right back in town.
We are now sitting in the hotel lobby waiting to see if the plane will be fixed. I hope they do the test take offs before they load us all back on.
We got no information in English. Some passengers attempted to translate but there was considerable difference in the stories we got.
We followed like sheep to a check-in desk, no idea why. We were given a bit of paper, apparently a hotel reservation. Buses arrived and took us to various hotels around town.
A new oil filter was to be flown in to repair our plane sometime tomorrow. Maybe.
We were fed grossly cheesy pizza and coke. Our room hadn’t been used in 20 years but we were happy to have a warm place to crash instead of a twisted wreck in the desert plains at the end of the airport runway.
I investigated all possible ways to get out of here. There are no other flights tomorrow, there were never going to be. The bus takes 2.5 days to get to our destination. There are no small aircraft operators and no trains. It reminded me of Nicolas Cage trying to get out of Red Rock West but always finishing up right back in town.
We are now sitting in the hotel lobby waiting to see if the plane will be fixed. I hope they do the test take offs before they load us all back on.
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