So...
fingers flexed, and it is time to start writing again. It's been a
while since I put 'pen to paper' as the saying goes. Therefore to
make this task a little less daunting I’m going to break our recent
trip down into more manageable 'bite-size' pieces.
This year
for our fall break, we had originally planned to do a tour of
Northern Italy, stopping off at different International schools in
the hope of making friends and potentially finding a job for next
year. This idea morphed a little when we thought of maybe taking a
day trip into Slovenia. There are just so many things to do there,
that we decided to spend most of our time there.
The
excitement started before we even left Morocco. Those of you reading
this who used to frequent this blog regularly, will know that few
journeys within or originating from Morocco, are without event.
Whether it is driving to the shops or flying home, some eyebrow
raising event is usually guaranteed to happen.
We have
learnt, through repeated painful experiences, that when flying
Ryanair into and out of Morocco, the 10 pounds for reserved seating
is money well spent. The mad dash for the gate is worse here than I
ever saw in Asia, So many sweet little old ladies have mercilessly
perfected the art of negotiating the smallest of gaps, armed with the
juxtaposed tools of the sharpest of elbows and a very innocent
expression, to squeeze their way to the front.
This trip
we were flying with Ryanair from Fez to Milan. It was early morning,
but we had had our coffee, negotiated the passport control without
incident, found a child-free section of the departure lounge, and had
our reserved seating tickets. Having got up early, and made Shannon
and Nate get up early on the first day of their holiday to drive us
to the airport, we were then a bit dismayed that the flight seemed to
be delayed without announcement. But no matter, this is all part of
the holiday after all. When the boarding was announced, we shuffled
our way forward to the 'Priority Boarding' line. This is always
something of a rewarding experience, as the attendant patiently, then
not so patiently explains to pushy people that they do not have
priority and must join the back of the other queue. If you are a
person who wouldn't pay for priority boarding then yes, we are those
annoying people, the ones who get to go to the front of the queue.
But after ten flights this year alone, we're done dealing with the annoying line jumpers.
Well,
this time the joke was on us. The plane was delayed even further.
When we were called to board it had not even landed. Instead we had
to stand with the sun beating through the window, right onto the
priority boarding line, wilting in the heat for almost an hour. When
boarding time finally came, our line was ushered out and on to a bus.
This is not usual practice, normally we walk, but we figured they
just wanted to move us somewhere, due to the fact that we had been
waiting so long. It became the airport version of a holding cell as
we sat for another 5-10 minutes on the tarmac outside the gate. When
the plane was finally emptied and our bus began to move off, the
boarding gate was opened and everybody else was instructed to walk to
the plane. This seemed a bit strange and worse, incredibly
frustrating, as all on the bus realized that we seemed to be unable
to go faster than about 6 miles an hour. The people walking also
seemed to realize this, and all of a there began a sudden insane
sprint to the plane. The racing business men, djellaba or high heel
restricted women, and towed children was quite a sight to behold. The
bus did make it to the plane first, but to everyone's further
frustration the door remained closed and seeing their chance the
sprinters increased pace.
While
this farcical situation was annoying, none of this worried us too
much, we did have reserved seating after all. But for those who had
opted instead for Priority Boarding it was incredibly frustrating.
When we
finally reached our seats, we breathed deep and tried to bring an
illusion of calm upon us, after all, we were on holiday. We tried to
ignore the overhead locker chaos, the increasingly irate instructions
of the flight attendants, as they try to get people to find a seat,
or actually secure that child instead of letting it climb over the
chair in front. We even tried to ignore one flight attendant's mad
dash up the aisle as the plane increased speed down the runway to
instruct some deaf/ignorant person that they should really “SIT
DOWN!”. We tried to ignore it and think of the holiday ahead, but
as they dash past with an oxygen bottle you start to get a little
distracted.
Just
another day on the Ryanair Fez route.
We are
lucky enough to be off to Rome for a week next Sunday. I wonder what
surprises we'll get on the Fez Rome route.
