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: Fannie's RoomAnd There Were No Survivors...
By Fannie
So, we land in Miami about an hour and a half later. A very, long 1 hour and 36 minutes to be exact. See, to someone with flying anxiety issues, every little turbulent bump means that the plane is going to be imminently shredded to pieces with all of the passengers free-falling to a fiery death.
But alas. Like I said. We landed in Miami.
The crew proceeded to "fix" the radar system. (Apparently, the possibility that the radar could re-break while we are flying over the Caribbean didn't bother "the crew.") So, we taxied back to the takeoff point.
The pilot: "I'm really sorry to tell you this folks, but the radar system is not working again. We're going to go back to the loading dock and our crews are going to fix the radar again."
Um, no thanks. Miami is a perfectly fine spot for my vacation thankyouverymuch.
The pilot (After an hour of the crew "fixing" the radar): "I'm sorry folks, this plane will not be taking off tonight. You're going to get off the plane and we're going to leave at 11 a.m. tomorrow morning." (It's 3:30 a.m. in Miami at this point)
So, we all 400 hundred of us waddle off the plane. We stand in line for an hour to get our hotel and food vouchers, catch a few hours of sleep at a hotel, return to the airport to catch our barfy 8 hour flight to Argentina.... but wait, wait a minute.... Our flight is now leaving at 4 pm!
Weeeeee!
Instead of drinking delicious wine in Argentina, I am writing a blog from a hotel in Miami. The flight is now leaving at 1:30 a.m. Surely they won't put us on the same death trap they had us on last night, right?
Right?
Did I mention that there's been some volcanic activity in Lima, Peru? So, in my head I'm going to board my malfunctioning plane later on tonight, only to blindly fly into volcanic ash smoke. Sort of gives a whole new meaning to "fiery crash," eh?
Buen viaje!
Oh yeah, and this...
Fuck flying. We are meant to be on land.
Full post as published by Fannie's Room on February 08, 2008 (boomark / email).

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