Stop it now: airports
Behaviours that stun me when I travel. Part 1.
Warning: this is going to be a controversial article. No diplomatic intermission has been granted. If you are currently on Cloud Nine, or you are in love and therefore you adore humankind as a whole: seriously, quit now. Check out other travel blogs. At least, until my next post. You have been warned.
I would like to begin from security checks, if I may. How can you not know it. How. You cannot bring on board 1.5 litres of shampoo or 12 bottles of wine. You are simply not allowed. Do not chance it. Moreover, your iPads, notebooks and laptop should be taken out of your cabin luggage in time. They cannot lay in the same tray of your other belongings.
If you do not do it, you are stealing my time. Stealing is a criminal offence.
Furthermore, you realise – don’t you – that photography is not allowed in the security areas. I am not even going to offer you any kind of explanation as to why. On top of it, what are you actually photographing? Metal detectors?
You may want to consider taking some pictures of your offspring, if you have any. Before entering the airport. Or of the sky. Or of your feet, if your creativity suffers, but not of metal detectors.
Stop it now.
You will then have to proceed to the departure gates.
Depending on your budget, you might have to fly with low-cost airlines. Personally, I am glad they exist: they allowed me to reach some memorable destinations with a 50-euro-fee (like Rumania in recent times).
However, flying with them involves some very harsh restrictions to your cabin bag’s weight and dimensions. Don’t you dare telling me you did not know it. When you book your flight online, they tell you. When you receive their email confirmation, they tell you. When you get to the airport, they tell you again.
Stop it now. You have no excuses. You cannot get away with it.
Stop stuttering cryptic words in broken English when the airline staff inform you that you cannot bring a 150-kilo-bag on board.
Stop it now. You are only embarrassing yourselves. Your offspring. Your former English teachers.
Landing: the applauses
Then, that thing you do with the applauses.
Italians, I am afraid this is directly for you. When the plane lands, you clap your hands. You. Clap. Your. Hands.
This is what pilots do and are paid to do. They drive planes from one place to the other. Safely.
Do you clap your hands when your barman presents you with an espresso?
Stop it now. You are probably the only ones doing this in the world.
Landing: your armpits in my mouth.
Landing is a critical phase for another reason. After applauding, you often have the tendency to jump out of your seats. It looks like a tarantula bit you.
Not only you proceed to push each other, trying to get out of your seat like in a strenuous Tetris game. You also start to shovel your armpits and your luggage into my mouth.
I will tell you once, and once only: until the doors are opened, and either stairs or mobile fingers are attached to the plane, nobody goes anywhere. That is unless you spasmodically desire to fight gravity.
We can arrange that. Do get in touch with us. We shall accommodate your every need.
Depending on your destination, you will proceed then to passport control.
At that point, you may want to notice a yellow line on the ground a few meters from the border officials.
That line, telling you to wait there, is not an invitation for a long jump race. Wait to be called there. Do not come too close to me.
I am not interested in your breath: do not steal my air. It’s precious.
Stop it. Stop it now.