[…]
The flight turned out to be all turbulence. More than on a plane, it seemed to be on a rollercoaster. And the worst of the entire trip: no window to check out what was happening to keep the situation under control. As we say in Italian: ‘Orribile’. No more in my life. From that moment on window seat would be a rule, as passing the safety controls at the airport.
At London Heathrow I actually proved that I only had 45 minutes to transfer from Terminal 5 to 1 and started to run. First line and first passport control passed. Great! I would have been in time. Control number two also passed, this time they also ordered me to stand up and watch in a camera – I always love these little modeling moments while traveling 🙂 -. Picture taken. Perfect. I was officially inside the UK. After running for a while I finally reached the gate for the little bus to Terminal 1. It was coming in 3 min. And I needed to go to the toilet. Ok, if I had found myself in Italy, I would have taken all my time. Yes, because in Italy 3 min and 30min are exactly the same. But I was in London. The English 3 minutes were supposed to be exactly what they were, 180 seconds. So the toilet could wait. I would have gone at Terminal 1.
Terminal 1. Only 20 min left for my next flight and the boarding had already started. Thank you monitors.
And after an authentic marathon, just what was missing: an ever ending line and a ‘super strict English style’ security control in front of me. And this, honestly, I really couldn’t understand. I had spent the latest 5 hours of my life inside an airport and up in the air. Where and how was I supposed to be building a bomb?!? And even worse, somebody had to explain to me why they had to steal -yes, a THEFT, no other word to describe that- my 3,60€ Evian bottle that I had bought INSIDE El Prat airport in Barcelona, after the security control, and that was supposed to be BOMB-FREE.
I wanted to disappear when the woman at the ‘super strict English style’ security control asked whose that black Hello Kitty case was. 15 min left. I started to change color and to get really very nervous. After opening the case, the candid camera began: with no respect or gentle manners at all she started TO TAKE EVERYTHING out of my case. After finding the bag containing all my liquids I could read a strange air of satisfaction on her face. ‘The liquids are not in the plastic bag. Here you have it. Everything must fit in the bag. One bag per passenger. The rest will go directly to the dust bin’. OH NO. This time I wanted to know where the cameras were. At least I wanted to smile.
SCUSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII?!?!?!??!?!?!? Was I supposed to make a selection? There? In 5 –or even less- minutes?! How could I promptly say what more important between an anti-socket eye gel and a transparent nail polish was?!? I’m a model!!!! HAVE YOU GOT A HEART OR WHAT?!?
Is it that difficult to apply the same security policy all over the world?!? I mean, why can I bring my liquids without the plastic bag in Spain but not in the UK? Mystery number 1.
And mystery number 2: Why do airports with this logistic still exist?!? Why –if you have a connected flight- have to pass all the security controls again like a passenger coming from Hyde Park?!
Another line and another control: It had to be official that I was leaving the UK. Stood up, watched in the camera and tried to smile again.
As expected, I was the only one passenger missing. Of course. I arrived at the gate completely red, sweat, with no voice, with my plastic bag in the hand and my belt hanging out of the luggage. I think the crew felt really sorry for me but in the nice attempt to help me they said these wrong words: ‘Don’t worry Madam, take your time. Just leave your case here. The plane is full and there is no space anymore. You will collect it in Cork, at the belt’. I would have exploded: ’DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. Take my luggage, steal my liquids, take my patience and my privacy. I don’t care. Just take me to Cork. Now. And my case too. Please.’ But kept calm and I replied with a nice: ‘Of course Madam, thank you very much for your help.’
There was no need to be in panic anymore. I did it. I was on board. And I was flying to Cork…:-)
-The End-
Love,
Renata