Free flight

Another dawn spent in the air, the who knows how manyeth one in recent months. There’s something magical about watching the sky dim. Not completely, for there seems always to be a sliver of orange on the furthest horizon, against the defined silhouette of the wing and flashing light at the tip of it.

A thought dawned on me as I’m following the plane across the Atlantic. This must have been my fifth time crossing the ocean. With such ease, with such speed. For me it seems to be the easiest thing to be boarding a plane and to just take off. Even the passport check person at the person was surprised when she saw the number of luggage stubs I had attached to the last pages of my passport.

Perhaps that is a blessing in itself, for I enjoy the privilege that most around the world can dream of: having homes around the world, and being able to come and go, but most of all, being able to stay in a place and not be like I’m a complete stranger. Feeling foreign and estranged is another matter altogether compared to being able to arrive at a city, a place and quickly get accustomed to the life and means of moving around at a place.

It never ceases to amaze me, how far I have come, and how far I can go. Onward to Canada. Another flight, another journey. The world feels so small. Or perhaps I’m just too active?

Flight scare

The land disappeared beneath the clouds. A last glimpse of the Netherlands for a long time to come. At least so I thought.

Ten minutes into the flight, the captain’s voice sounded over the intercom. “Technical problems with the landing gears… cannot be retracted…”. Then came the low grumbling and rumbling in the bowl of the Fokker 100. The plane shook, the clouds were dense, but beautiful, spread like a fluffy sheet across the sky, across the horizon as far as the eye could see, up to where the sky met the sea.

The rumbling continued for a while, then stopped. I felt the plane bank, turning, turning, turning, and turning. I suspected as much, and the pilot came on again to report that we had to go back to Schiphol. The gears just wouldn’t retract, and they had no way to guarantee our safety if we pressed on towards Frankfurt. Passengers around me murmured, and the atmosphere was somewhat tense, despite attempts by the cabin crew to explain that things would be alright. I watched the hands on my watch tick, tick, tick and draw closer to the time my connecting flight was supposed to depart from Frankfurt.

Soon the land appeared again beneath the clouds… fields, canals, polders, lakes, and even the big, shiny building in Leiden I used to study in rolled by below like a reel of film. Slowly, we neared the ground. It was damp from the drizzle before. I leaned back, and braced in anticipation. Wheels that had been out in the freezing air so long… would they still be ok to withstand the forces of touching down? It seemed like forever, and the runway slid past beneath like a black snake.


"the big, shiny building in Leiden I used to study in" (top left corner)


A thump, and a screech. But at least we were still alive, hurtling down the runway until we eventually came to a halt. The plane rolled back to the tarmac to join its Fokker friends, perhaps a little wounded in pride, for it was the little plane that could not really fly. As the passengers disembarked, the pilot stood at the door seemed to looked apologetic. There were lots of complaining and grumbling, even louder than the noise coming from the belly of the plane before. But I smiled at the crew, and thanked them for bringing us back down to earth again.

I got a coupon, and repeated apologies. Ten Euros to spend on food and whatever I want to buy at Schiphol. But it doesn’t compensate for the fact that I was sure to miss my connecting flight to Canada. I asked whether there was anything KLM could do; rebook me, contact my continuing airline, find me an alternative routing. More apologies. As my onward flight was a separate ticket, KLM’s responsibilities end when they bring the passengers to Frankfurt. “That is our contract with the passenger, and we can’t be liable for anything beyond that”. Yeah, but because of their ‘technical problems’ I’m missing my flight, even though I had made sure I would have almost three hours to transfer. “There’s no legal loophole. We are doing what we can to get you there, and the delay is within the time frame, so there is no right to compensation. You better speak to Air Canada, we can’t help you here”. I smiled, and at the same time in my mind a strongly worded complaint letter was already being written. Mental note: avoid KLM whenever possible.

I searched for a phone, and when I found it, it seemed to swallow money like a slot machine. I managed to rebook my flight and postpone my flight back to Canada by a day. But it will cost me. Not just time, energy, but also $150. Together with the fee I had to pay for my two previous changes I could almost bought a return ticket from Canada to the Netherlands. My good luck in the new year, I guess.

I consoled myself. At least I have done my bit (again) to save Air Canada from impending bankruptcy.