Bye bye busy project room...

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Having endured yet another boring summer at the office I was finally gearing up for my first long escape from work, and the thought was very refreshing. This time I had scheduled a few weeks to catch up with old friends; and circumstances had allowed for me and Joanne to be able to visit Thailand at the same time. And not only that; I had learnt that my old friend Manuella from Timor Leste was on holiday in China at this time - a hasty arrangement and we decided to meet up in Hong Kong. It was looking to be a busy trip with lots of interesting reunions which made my cynical heart smile a little. I had prepared by bringing loads of fish, the only European staple to meet with a high enough approval rate across the board. Wherever it goes, herring seems to cater to the quality-minded Asian taste-buds. And with the new stupid EU-regulations prohibiting fluids in excess of 100ml in the carry-on luggage this commodity at once became even more difficult to transport. Carrying smelly herring in your carry-on can be a risky move; one careless throw of the bag onto the security screening belt and the whole situation would take a decidedly unpleasant turn. But the alternative of packing the glass jars into my checked bag is a confirmed kill; if you have ever seen the droves of heavy duty KLM Crew-bags squeezing the lifeforce out of an unlucky backpack on the conveyor belt you know exactly what I am talking about. Fortunately for me, the airport featured a gift shop where I could get some nice overpriced herring to carry onboard in a sealed bag.

This time I stayed true to my promise. I decided to give Jonkoping Airport a wide berth and started my trip in Gothenburg instead. As much as I regret this turn of events I have really had it up to here with the time wasted on playing connect the dots even before leaving the continent. So bag in hand I turned up at Landvetter Airport ready for a fullsize September 11th-cavity search. Activity was kind of low though, and I breezed right through the security control without as much as a suspicious glance. I saw a handful of policemen merrily walking round the sleepy terminal, but there was nothing else to remind you that this date is one of the security superivsor's worst nightmares.

As so many times in the past I had voted for Finnair to carry me across the world. I do check the other airlines as a courtesy to their long traditions of ferrying people around the world, but as usual the rivals had nothing that could even touch our gentle eastern neighbour. If Finland was the forgotten end of Western Europe during the cold war days she has certainly had a beautiful transition into a cosmopolitan gateway to Asia; a feature the national carrier hasn't been late to capitalize on. Finnair currently flies to ten destinations across Southern and Southeast Asia, impressive for a small Nordic country of 5 million souls. Being one of the few airlines to still deploy the McDonnell Douglas MD-11 these birds are slated to become replaced by a whole load of brand new Airbus A340s, a sign that this gateway to the east is very much alive and well.

The flight out of town was running a bit late, and while the ground crew prepped the Embraer 170 for take off I casually looked around at the people waiting at the gate. There were a few tourists, easily spotted in their colourful leisurely clothes, a mob of Men In Black on biz trips and I weird old man with a crutch sitting at the opposite end of the room and coughing loudly. We were finally allowed onboard, and I slunk down into my seat, and as everyone have already figured out, moments later a cheerful and ear-piercing voice of Gothenburgian accent made it clear to me that I would indeed be sharing seats with the old cougher. Great... what are the odds? I am now convinced that there is a conspiracy to seat me next to obese men. Not only do they hog the armrest, but bits and pieces of them pour over the invisible border and come to rest on my shoulder, against my arm and thigh, while I myself keep squeezing hard to the curved wall of the aircraft. To compensate for this breach in privacy I was rewarded with little direct conversation, mainly because he was busy engaging anyone and everyone in blind one-way communication. I had soon learnt that he was to spend half a year in Thailand and I made a silent prayer that we not be seated next to each other on the ten hour flight as well. But considering we had been assigned seats so near to each other I knew there was actually a pretty good chance of prolonged company if none of us had gone to the trouble to be reseated elsewhere in the cabin. Oh joy.

After a miserable hour in the sky there was little time on the ground in Helsinki before we were rushed aboard the now waiting MD-11 with the gate closing sign already out, so we all made our quick transfers to the other side of the airport. As I was greeted aboard the plane I sat down in an empty seat row with some really nice windows although over the wing. There was a young Russian couple in front of me busily involved in saliva transfers, a sight not too uncommon on the Finnair long haul. But the only thing on my mind was to look out for my happy travel companion. That is when I noticed the sign just above me; the universally recognized symbol for "handicapped". A almost started giggling out of frustration. They had seated me next to the handicap seat; and somewhere in the terminal building a large and loud old man with a constant cough and a crutch was being ferried towards this very plane in a wheelchair. I quickly did the math and buried my head in my hands. No. No. No. I don't want to hear more anecdotes about the redwine served aboard, or what interesting tidbits to be found in the daily newspaper; I just want to sleep so that I can endure the busy schedule upon my arrival. But I was lucky. There was apparently another similar handicap seat on the other side of the aisle, and we ended up on opposite sides of the same row. A quick sigh of relief and disbelief, and the MD-11 merrily jittered and bounced into the night.

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Photos

Lay it on me!
A pretty good value return ticket; nothing exciting but on the other hand economy tickets often cost double, especially if you want to come back home on a Sunday.
This ticket cost 6400 SEK, the equivalent of roughly 1000 USD, 700 EUR or 500 GBP. Non-refundable and changes not permitted of course.