Outbound

Bleary eyed and somewhat baffled by the sound of vibrating coming from under my pillow I quickly realised that today is the day to turn things upside down yet again. Nonetheless, once ‘underweigh’ with my hold all, a pair of laptops, bulky SLR and a bag full of bed sheets, the tube immediately seemed like the worst idea. The worst idea perhaps, but also the cheapest and the most unaccommodating means of travel that I could find at this godforsaken hour.

After molly coddling my belongings like you would an old lady going down stairs, and having stood all the way on the tube to west London, I finally arrived with red strap marks burnt into my neck and a very stiff arm. Anyway, enough of the moaning I thought I’m off to Peru – a wealth of opportunity, mystery and to be honest who bloody knows what (certainly a contributing factor to my departure other than chasing a certain lady).

Events and moods are always quick to change when you walk into 25 Ladbroke Walk and this wasn’t an exception. A whirlwind of questions and logical advice from father set the tone and corrected my absentmindedness, with a brisk but pleasant lunch to follow. So, with all pleasantries aside I was now airport bound, this time in the luxury of the good old black cab – a rare, well missed and always welcomed friend of mine, cheers Dad!

Airports are often deemed as places of high stress and turmoil. Whoever said that is/was full of bollocks! Arrive, check in, security (where my guilty conscience scratches) and then hit the OYSTER BAR! If anyone needs a lesson at Heathrow, then adopt my advice. A glass of vino blanco, a couple of oysters to become socially accepted and fit in amongst all the immaculately clad businessmen and Russian women and we are set for the next stage…or so I think!

London – Madrid done. Madrid – Lima confusion! The boarding queue takes matters into its own hands and there is organised chaos. This consisted of a stampede of Peruvian’s all charging towards the boarding gate desk, which then resulted in new seats being allocated and a gaggle of families moaning in Spanish that they all must sit beside one another, otherwise they won’t last the journey - exactly my thought!

It just so happens that I owe an awful lot to this new fangled way of queuing for planes, as once on board I found my seat to be occupied by what I thought at a first glance was a life-size garden gnome, but on a second take it couldn’t be anyone else but one of Peru’s many local ‘cholitas’, who was wearing a typical bowler hat that was interestingly perched on top of her head. With no energy and enthusiasm to instigate any form of misconceived conversation, it was straight to the air hostess.

What seemed like a period of utter meltdown on board BA7235 and a few burst blood vessels later, I managed to land myself a seat where the real action is first class! My veins now retracted, my heart beating a normal rhythm I began to let a very smug smile creep over my face as I casually made my way past the rest of the cattle class and slipped into what felt like a leather glove. Struggling to contain my excitement (this will be explained shortly) I quickly realised that I wasn’t going to be able to sit with all my belongings on my lap for the entire duration of the flight, so quickly stowed them in the overhead locker. As when put in any formal situation, I crafted a suave and sophisticated manner just to fit in with all other people who were flying first class.

Dinner time! This is where my primitive and juvenile tendencies got the better of me and totally destroyed my ‘important person’ facade.

Let’s start from the beginning. With white Chino’s, a plain blue t-shirt, a stumpy build accompanied by a swash of black hair and a pair of steel grey glasses perched on his sun weathered face, I took my first look at my flying buddy for the next twelve hours or so and what a bond we formed! From my side of the armrest, this guy looked like the kind you didn’t want to piss off, otherwise you might quickly find yourself being escorted away to some godforsaken dark hole, and shacked up with a grizzly rapist for the next few months. So, with my cautious and calculated approach I chose to mimic his style to try and keep in sync and create a positive first impression. When the airhostess appeared and offered him a selection of orange juice, water or champagne, I replied ‘El mismo por favor’ (the same please). This, I could see was working well, as I detected a quick flicker of his eyes in my direction before he resumed reading his complimentary magazine.

Some time passed by before dinner was to be served, so we both sat there in harmony browsing casually over various tropical destinations and exotic retreats around the world (all of which was in Spanish, and most of which I could only guess at) taking time to occasionally nod with approval at particular destinations. Then somewhat unannounced the hostess appears from behind a curtain in a wizard like fashion, pushing a trolley with a variety of culinary delicacies. A few words were spoken between the hostess and my Peruvian friend and he was presented with red wine, foie gras, a duck consommé and ravioli with a pesto dressing. Now, it was my turn – ‘El mismo por favor’, I regurgitated once again.

Rather like a Charlie Chaplin sketch I carefully followed each and every movement of my compadre – a swirl followed by deep nasal inhalation of the red wine, a smearing of foie gras on the warm bread, it was rather like ballet. I could now see that I was making progress, as he turned to me with his glass poised, looked me in the eye and said ‘Salud’. I’d cracked it I thought! This curious character had finally acknowledged me. With a new air of confidence I plunged straight into my ravioli with apparent force. In fact, it turned out I was albeit a trifle to eager, as my entire tray gave way, spilling the entire contents all over my lap! I was now sat wearing what felt like a soiled nappy, instead filled with a cocktail of wine, duck soup and mushed ravioli parcels!!!

During this commotion my now ‘former’ friend quickly jumped up and ushered over what seemed like all the stewardesses on the plane who proceeded to pat me uncontrollably with serviettes. Red in the face and beads of sweat forming on my brow, I was catapulted from a state of measured control to utter embarrassment! We had no further communication for the rest of the flight I may hasten to add!