I am short, so short that if I was chocolate I would probably be called "fun sized". When I travel by bus, air or car I can stretch my wee legs out and nap away. My latest adventure on Tiger Airways has finished and I have learned that when you are six foot three instead of five foot one there are some considerations that you have to make when you are traveling.
I am back from my latest adventure of Tiger Airways, this time to lovely Sydney to celebrate birthdays. Luckily there are many fights between Sydney and Melbourne so a late morning flight on Friday and Sunday mid afternoon return from Sydney seemed ideal for a three day two night getaway.
Of course, I hadn't planned for last minute emergencies at work and one very sick beloved leading to a very disturbed night's sleep Thursday night and a dash to the airport via Carlton where I had to promise that I would be 30 minutes and 30 minutes only at work before going to the airport. Arriving an hour and 15 minutes before our flight check in was easy peasy, luggage was weighed and we headed to have a bite of brunch. I did dissolve into giggles when going through the metal detector; I turned around to see my beloved, who prefers to keep his cash in his front pocket, clutching a fist of fifties as he tried to retrieve his coins from a blue bucket. I do feel like a liar as I said both in Melbourne ans Sydney that I didn't have an aerosol in my bag and I found when I got home that there was hairspray in my carry on luggage. Well if two lots of x-ray dudes didn't spot it I'm not going to carry that guilt for too long.
A word or two about the Friday demographic on Tiger. Much eyeliner, shapeless faux fur draped as shawl / poncho and high heels. I hope the wander across the tarmac didn't ruin too many stilettos. I totally coveted the hot pink rosette adorned tutu on the sweetest toddler, I am looking for that skirt in big girl sizes.
So full of coffee, off we toddled off to our flight. Now time for wee whinge. I either travel lightly or pay for luggage to go under the plane. On a cold blustery Melbourne morning I do not want to have to stand on the tarmac and yet here we were standing in drizzle as the line of passengers came to a standstill. As we were two of the last passengers to board I can only surmise that once again the number of cases on rollers exceeded the amount of overhead locker space. I think that was accurate summation if the Toorak momma who indignantly opened a series of lockers looking for space for her bags was a sample of what happened previously.
Our seats, window and middle, were located and I popped into the window seat. All my beloved's concerns about looking like Snoopy and having his head stick out of the roof of the plane were unfounded, but we had a more immediate problem. My love's long long legs just did not fit between the seat and the seat in front. So spread-legged my darling and I chatted away, looked out the window, napped, then as the flight was almost through I noticed the gentleman on the aisle seat kind of scrunching away. I whispered to my love who kind of tried to move his legs towards me as best he could. About 20 minutes later we landed, and my beloved muttered that he may not be able to stand, literally, as his foot had gone to sleep!! Thankfully the other passengers took a while to disembark and, blood flow restored, we went in search of our suitcase and my fab bestie for a weekend of frivolity.
Saturday night, after a day of sightseeing and waiting for our table at a restaurant in Surry Hills I received a text advising that our flight on Sunday had been cancelled. I had failed to bring our flight details with me to dinner (shock horror, what an oversight) so decided to wait until our drive home. Dinner was an amazing experience complete with celebrity sighting at the next table (think The Voice judge) and it was close to 11.30 pm by the time I was able to call. Tiger did give us a number of options: a move to an alternative flight on the same day, travel within seven days or a refund. We had to get home the following day so a flight two hours earlier than the one we had originally booked seemed the best alternative.
Twelve hours later we arrived back at Sydney airport for another hassle free check in and proceeded to the nearest coffee shop. I had decided that if we had another window seat that my love would sit there rather than have him try his "sheep farmer as safety pin trick" in the middle seat. We relieved ourselves of some cash to enjoy an in-flight gin and tonic (JB and coke for my beloved) and before we knew it we were back in grey wet Melbourne.
The lesson learned for this trip? When you are six foot three and travelling anywhere for more than an hour leg room is very important. Oh, and my beloved is macho enough to carry off toting a black brocade piece of hand luggage complete with diamonte encrusted bag tags.
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