…to Orlando
I live in a great Italian town with one giant flaw : it’s a shitty place to fly out of, with direct connections limited to a handful of cities a few times a week.
To get to Orlando, I therefore had to drive to Milan, and fly through Frankfurt – something like a 17 hour trip door-to-door.
Our commentary starts at hour 4, sitting on the plane in Milan :
“Goodmorning ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to this Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt. We are delighted to welcome you on board. We hope you enjoy your flight. The entire crew is dedicated to your comfort and safety.”
So far so good.
“Before we start the engines I must inform you that our external checks thave identified a wheel with only one bolt and we need to replace the missing ones.”
Here we go.
“Unfortunately this operation can only be performed by a certified 737 engineer and there are non currently on duty at the airport. We ask for your patience as the ground crew locate a suitably qualified colleague, wake him up and arrange for him to come to the airport.”
The Italians have a lovely saying : “I know my chickens.” It basically means that the chirpy tone used by the captain is totally misplaced. That plane will still be there in 2 hours.
A quick call to Lufthansa confirms that I will miss my connection and that I will have to spend 22 hours laid over in Frankfurt waiting for the next connection.
I choose the only available option to get me to my destination :
Milan -> Munich -> Toronto -> Orlando
Total travel time 25 hours, and that’s if I arrive. My last trip through Toronto go me detained by the Mounties for attempted illegal transit, but that’s another story…