The power of love is a curious thing, make a one man weep, make another man sing

Welcome to San Francisco. Don’t get excited, we are only here for a couple of hours as we transit to NYC.

In my last post, I spoke about the odd reactions we got from people when we told them we were flying United. I’m pleased to report that my expectations were exceeded. The flight crew were lovely, the meals were good, in-flight entertainment was good, ice-cream and Tim Tams were great … pretty much 4 stars all around. They would have got 5 stars if they’d upgraded me to business class, but my expectations on that ever happening were very low.

There are a couple of things that I do need to comment about regarding United, however.

Firstly – and it may seem obvious – but United is an American airline, so the flight crew were all American. Duh!

But as you probably know, Americans talk funny. I don’t mean for that to be a criticism … just an observation. Australians all talk the same. You have no way of knowing whether an Aussie comes from Perth or Melbourne or Townsville by the way that they talk – except for the fact that North Queenslanders do tend you say “youse” (as in “do youse come here often?”), and finish most sentences with “eh” (as in “it’s hot here today, eh?”).

Other than that, we all talk the same. But not Americans.

The American flight crew also spoke quite quickly. I don’t know if that is normal, or they were just pushed for time.

So when the meal service came around, the flight crew were trying to say “we have two options for lunch today – you can have the chicken and rice, or you can have the pasta”.

What it came out as was “chickenandriceorpasta, chickenandriceorpasta?”

Our fellow passengers who are American would respond with “chicken and rice please”, or “pasta please”.

The Australian passengers mostly responded with either “yes please” or “huh?” The flight crew then responded with “no, you can have chicken and rice, OR you can have pasta.” I’m sure it wasn’t just me. 

My second observation relates to the captain of the plane. I can only assume that he has a mean streak.

As we departed Sydney this morning, he announced that our flight time to San Francisco would be 12 hours and 22 minutes. Not “a bit under 12 and a half hours”, but a very, very specific 12 hours and 22 minutes. He said it twice.

He also said that we would be cruising at 35,000 feet.

So here is my issue. If he can be so specific about how long it will take to travel from Sydney to San Francisco, why can’t he actually fly the plane at 35,000 feet? Does he have no idea of the havoc that it plays with my OCD?

Those of you that don’t know me well probably think that I’m kidding. Those of you that do know me well know that I’m not.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), we hit some pretty bad turbulence so he needed to go up to 37,000 feet. Do you think that fixed the problem? Nope!

Then more turbulence, and up again to 40,000 feet. He’s done it again! I’m convinced that he’s doing it on purpose, but I’m trying to be “glass half full” about it.

This travelling west to east is messing with my head. We left Sydney at about 10.30 Friday morning, and thanks to the mystery that is known as the international date line, we arrived in San Francisco 4 hours before we took off from Sydney. I wonder if we kept travelling around the world west to east forever, whether we would start to become younger.

You may have noticed that i have been starting each post with the first line(s) of a song.

Today’s title/song is possibly a bit obscure. Actually it’s probably very obscure, but I challenge you to try and work out the significance. You are most welcome to submit a comment with your thoughts, and the first correct answer gets bragging rights. Not a great prize I admit.

If you can’t see where to comment, you need to click on the title of the post first, then scroll to the bottom.

If you are reading this sentence, then you are almost at the bottom.

Somehow that turned out to be a very long post, which is especially surprising considering that I’ve been sitting on a plane at somewhere between 35,001 feet and 40,001 feet for 12 hours and 22 minutes, have done nothing, and actually have nothing to say.

Now that I’ve gone back and re-read it, it sounds like a bit of a rant. It’s not really – I think it’s just tiredness. I have a working theory that caffeine can be used as a substitute for sleep, but it’s not working well for me 🙁

Anyway, onward and upward. NYC here we come.

Ciao

#G&KTAKEUSA