I Call Travel
It's not a walk...in the park.
If you read the headers of this piece and wrinkled your eyebrows in confusion, that’s ok. I don’t blame you for not being part of the exclusive clique of humans who have picked up a basketball and attempted to get it through a bunch of rope strung up high, or at least assisted others who are more capable of getting that ball through the rope.
You just don’t travel in basketball.
But of course, this piece is not about basketball. At all.
Hmm. That rhymed.
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Anyways, I have been on a flight or two in my time, and can credibly say that I have seen and observed enough to have to drop a Fashi on the madness of travel. I don’t enjoy traveling per se, it takes me away from the family, there are so many fixed and variable factors that you will be exposed to that will chew your behind instantly in a hot second, folks seem to be on edge these days at the airports and hotels, so…wahala plenty, wahala wey me I no want abeg.
But, then you get to where you need to be, and you’re around your people (especially when I’m back on the continent), and it’s all worth the katakata. Work has to be done, people need to be seen, stuff has to get stuffed. That is what makes it doable. However, I do have some thoughts to thought about this travel experience thingamajig. Let’s go.
First, don’t let any travel influencer tell you nonsense—flying the skies these days is treacherous and laden with danger like the Game of Thrones. House of Dragons even. Not only are you stratified on the plane (we will like to thank our Business Class and Diamond Medallion flyers for their business, the rest of you riff-raff should sharrap, and we’ll see if there is food in the back for you. I said SHARRAP!), we are packed like sardines in an airlock…I go to the gym just to do upper body and bicep work for the inevitable armrest battle of the century. It is exhausting.
I am a Diamond Medalion BTW. And let me assure you, it means absolutely nothing. Nada. Okay, Zone 1 or 2 boarding. Yay. Extra luggage for free check in. Ok, sah. That’s it. You think Diamonds get upgrades on the long haul flights? For where? Extra privileges are not part of the deal. In fact the airlines took away many privileges in the last year for their most frequent fliers. Why? Because we are losers that keep flying with them.
I will say I get some smug satisfaction when they announce Zone 1 during boarding, and folks are blocking you because I don’t know why and then you tell them to get out the way, riff-raff, and they are all aggravated that dude in the joggers and tee-shirt is boarding before them. Petty and messy…but hey.
Let’s talk about some in-flight stuff. We know the cabins have more alien bacteria and undiscovered pathogens than the most advanced bio-weapons labs in the world, but at least in there, you can deceive yourself into believing you are building your anti bio-weapons immunity. Every time you do a long-haul flight and emerge with just an additional belly button or extra toe nail, pop an Ibuprofen and thank the stars. With the way folks hack and cough and sneeze with their mouths laser-guided right in your direction, it is a miracle they let people off the planes without instant decontamination and hazmat suits.
True story. I was on my way to Kigali for something last year. Sitting across from me was this bobo, from Italy or Greece, I couldn’t place it from his accent or his well-tailored suit. He was clearly in bad shape—sweaty, coughing, hacking. The poor lady sharing the row with him, eish. And he didn’t give a crap. Just did and touched whatever the hell suited him. When we got to Kigali, I mentioned to one of the folks doing random health checks to look out for this guy, even as they decided I was the perfect candidate for said random deep dive into my nostrils. Right? I get to my hotel, and I’m checking in. I hear a cough behind me, and I look back.
Yep. I have no idea what games Karma was playing and on whom.
And I was so pissed off with the balls of this guy bringing whatever yuckery he had to the continent without even pretending. The sense of entitlement can be…hmm.
And. I mean, Jesu Christi tell us what it is about folks going to the plane restroom barefoot? How? Why? Even worse is if you wear socks to the restroom! Na wa o.
Do you know where the most nauseating gas emissions happen? In business class. Without fail. On the few occasions I have flown long haul business, every single time, there is a sustained deployment of gaseous bio-weapons that causes cabin-wide temporary facial paralysis. The type where you have to open up your fan, inject yourself with an anti-radiation antidote, and then hold your breath for ten minutes. These are the elites? Or is it that they are so entitled, the cost of the ticket makes it their right to gas their fellow passengers to oblivion as they please. Eish.
And don’t believe the hype, folks who take pics to show their baller status in business class, don’t usually fly business class. That’s like if you have to ask the price of a watch or car, then you can’t afford it. Same thing. The real business class OGs just take their seats and pass gas.
Look, I traveled with my kids when they were younger and it is crazy so I am not anti-kids on the plane. But when you now think that your children have carte blanche to turn my section of the cabin into “Spongebob’s Call of Duty—Scream Like A Banshee For Three Hours”? We get problem o. And no, stop smiling at me, I don’t think your kids are cute.
Earplugs. Earbuds. If you don’t own them, then you deserve the un-peace and un-quiet that the latest crop of top 10 terrorists under 10 are unleashing on you for the duration of the 12-hour flight.
No, I will not switch my aisle seat to your middle seat so you can pretend to want to sit with your boo. And stop glaring at me, I do glare back, and it is ugly as hell.
😠
Let me let you in on a secret: get cool with the flight attendants. You smile at them, look at them, ask them how they are, have a quick convo, give a compliment…you’ll have a good flight. They’ll take care of you. Give them attitude? Ah, Oga…that one na your own wahala.
This could be its own documentary, walahi. But, I figure I get this off my chest, and onto yours. 🤣 . Safe travels if you are hitting the road, and welcome back if you are just making it home.
Until next.
A good read, laced with humour. Gas emissions in the business class cabin :-)