June 23, 2017

Once again, it’s time to jump on a plane to the old country.

This year I’m flying Sun Country airlines (which Mr. Cynic started referring to as “Sun Catastrophe Airlines” the minute he discovered the name). It is a newer and smaller company trying to be “hip,” with “humorous” taped messages for things like preflight.  It also follows the new trend of charging for everything.  That said: the flight crew was great, and they have the European style seats with a little extra room for bags. I’d fly them again – making sure to grab a sandwich at the airport.

The obligatory "mountains from plane

window" with a few water/cleaning

fluid stains.

I’m a little disappointed in the PDX flight prep folks today. When Z booked my flights for this trip, she indulged me in the rare window seat (so I thought…she told me when I got to Keszthely that was the leg she couldn’t request seats for.  Thanks for the great seat, Sun Catastrophe folks!). Sadly, the cleaning water was so dirty I’m looking through a window with a monster fingerprint. Either that or it’s an “edgy detail” from Air Catastrophe. Either way, taking photos on this beautiful day is impossible. It’s kind of a shame – it’s beautiful today.

The problem with these long flights is that you can’t set up the computer rig to write music – not enough room. I’m always itchy to get started after a long year of concerting/parading/festivaling and the like, but I’ll have to wait for Palinkaland to get started. I’d probably write crap on a plane anyway.

The real problem, of course, is that you spend a year corrupting the leaders of tomorrow today, you are in a hurry to jump back into having a life with a happy wife again. Not that being sarcastic to high school students is bad, mind you. But I married her – not them. Aww heck, it’s just a 20-hour trip. That’s nothing.

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My favorite of the new “hip” announcements: “The captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Federal regulations require that you return to your seat.” And then, with venom in her little synthetic voice, “So do it, please.” Sounds like they would have preferred “damn it!” in place of the “please,” but knew they probably couldn’t get away with it.

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Another of those wonderful examples of Hungarian being a made-up language. Nyar is a poplar, as in the tree. Nyár is summer. Now come on, this isn’t fair!

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The next leg is on Condor Air, the budget division of Lufthansa. Our crew is based in Germany on this flight, and have good “Klaus” accents. Very friendly, though.

Like everything else in the new discount air travel business, all you used to get for free you now pay for. Premium movies – 8 euro. Premium meals – 14 euro. You get the idea. I don’t care that much, as I would rather read than watch a movie on a midget screen with awful sound.

In this brave new world, dinner is a choice of pasta and…well that’s it. It comes with spicy tomato sauce and cheese. Along with it you get an American roll and cheese.  You also get two pieces of the thin German “sports” bread and butter. The veg is creamy coleslaw. For desert – chocolate pudding. 5,000,000 calories, top. The “premium” meals have an actual protein, a fruit cup, and the bread and accompaniments. Probably not that much healthier, but probably less of a gut bomb. 4 months of dieting blown in one “meal.”

One of the great challenges of international air travel is sleeping in the little seat they give you. You envy the little kids their tiny bodies that can stretch out flat. Adults must get more creative. Do you use the table in front of you and double yourself over? Try to use the dread “sleep doughnut” and injure your neck for weeks? Are you one of the types that finds new and creative ways to use your chair? No kidding, I saw someone sitting upside down once, snoring away.

Of course this swell blanket provided by

Condor made for a swell sleeping

environment!

This last method was my choice for this trip. Not the upside-down thing – okay, I admit to doing that when I younger – but the “creative sitting” model. My choice for this trip involved scrunching down on my left side while simultaneously hooking my legs around the outside of the seat in the isle. I didn’t hear crashing trays or anything, and I actually got about 3 to 4 hours of reasonably good sleep. Could be a new winner!

Breakfast on Condor is a continental plate of cantaloupe and pineapple, with a tired looking piece of ham and more cheese – they must own stock or something – and a roll with butter and jam. As this came with an acceptable cup of coffee, I was not forced to kill anyone (kidding, just kidding. Or am I?).

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My last leg is on Lufthansa – assuming I can find it. I’m here 3 hours before my inter-EU flight, which means that info will be posted for at least an hour. After running no less than 12.4 miles (yes, I’m sure, Frankfurt is a big airport) to get to the gate on my boarding pass, and having had bad experiences with this before, I asked the nice ladies at the counter if this was the right gate.

You all know where this is going, right?

“No, this is gate 56. You need gate 8. It’s way back that way about 12 miles.”

Sigh.

So, I trudged back, bought a pretzel (Hey, I’m in Germany) and found the gate. Where I promptly curled up in the empty lounge on a bench and took a nap.

Most of you know by now that Hungarian is not my first language. But I’ve been around it enough now to know it when I hear it. Strangely, one of those things all that music experience has done for me is making easier to identify Italian than that wacky space-alien language. So upon waking and hearing lots of Italian and not so much Hungarian, I groggily perceived a problem. I know, nothing gets by me.

A check in at the ticket gate quickly rectified the problem. “You need to be at gate 56.” At least he was nice enough to call and double check.