Languages \u200b\u200bPlanes and I: an impossible romance Something in transportation that awakens in me less charismatic traits. I tested again and again on the bike, but on this trip I have had test it with air elements (ie aircraft or airports). I love flying in an airplane, just in a plane is not mine. A few days ago had to take a flight from Belgium to Santander, where would the second part of the holiday, with my uncles who live for some years on English soil. To
cheap flights is Ryanair, with whom you can find very low rates with the problem that they charge you everything. For example, every kilo extra luggage costs you a fortune, which clearly lacks and therefore seek to avoid at all costs. Not to go the weight limit that can be documented on the plane, Jo and I developed several strategies. First, we set up all the clothes as possible: everyone two shirts, three sweaters, scarves and some other rags. Then, we decided to put the heaviest things in our hand luggage. Mine was the backpack on my computer, (because I got the bright idea to bring it to Europe, said that to my thesis.) Addition aparatejo got there all the electronics, cables, chargers, camera, shaver, voltage converter and other electronic devices that we consider necessary for the trip. It also brought women's flirty little things, Ö Article personal call them. And there was the mess.
After documenting the suitcases we will head towards the boarding area, where you review that bombs do not bring forth. I semi-around naked as a requirement, which took several minutes for the huge amount of clothing you brought up, I felt the lady police, and we went, me and my belongings, unwanted objects from detection. And chin, I detect a liquid. I brought Sedal hydrated curls and toothpaste, which are banned for being a vile and vain either, sounded the alarm and I went to what is still the intensive review. One of the guards, rather handsome, unfortunately, was given the task of reviewing in detail my luggage. Boldly opened my suitcase and ran each Recobeco, taking everything, flipping through my books, smelling my deodorant the very pork, and without the slightest hint of discretion. The only time that chiveó a bit was when you made for my feminine sanitary products scatter across the bar, and then picked up the two Kotex and tampons, while the police lady looked at us, and he was Red red and I just said "desolate, desolate." Damn insensitive.
Desupués to confiscate my line and my pasta the guard thought he could put all my belongings into the dongle, just like that, as if I had taken more than half an hour to accommodate each item. He could not, of course, and less as the closure does not work, and provides a close habit, I ended up doing it myself. Total that the joke was we have a good time, and when we go from there it was long after the time to address. We got to see the screen where alert which gate each plane, but it was so late that ours was no longer advertised. Jo was all distraught, running back and forth like headless chicken to see if anyone could give him information. I, as calmly as ever, still see the screen to see if my flight magically appeared.
In that, I hear my name in the air: "Marcela Orraca et Marie José Orraca, au transport Vouz presentez Sep immédiatement. As crazy, we went to the door seven. I was running that fast gazelle with a lightness that had rarely felt in my life. Ago, I heard strange noises and thought "How outrageous is my sister to run." Jo suddenly heard shouting: "Marc, you're desconchinflando!", And turned to see the poor by collecting a range of appliances and cables I had spread my way. The stupid bag closure had opened and the reason for my light was not my long legs but a reduction in my luggage. I helped to collect and died of laughter we get to the dresser, her arms so full of things that we could not deliver the ticket. We waited there a lady with a face "finally deign to appear, and I still I tried to explain in French that it was all because of a guard.
At last we entered the plane. Imagine the scene. Two people tiny in stature, all sweaty and disheveled, with an absurd amount of clothing on top, tangled wires in the arms and neck, and a suitcase half-open in hands, walking down the airplane aisle looking for two empty seats and beating our way to half the crew. I only said between his teeth "Jo, avoid at all costs to mention your nationality." If our dignity was destroyed, at least we could safeguard the honor of the motherland.