Many years ago, my uncle Vic, who was a northern bush pilot, replied to us when we told him we would be flying with Calm Air, that we would be flying “on white knuckles and guts.” I was dismayed when I heard that, but now, about 50 years later, that describes pretty well all commercial flying.

Our first flight was with Air Canada to Montreal. It was not fun.

I have flown many times in my life.  But only a couple on times first class. All of them were accidental and not planned. The first time we got nudged into first class when our Greek Driver in Athens failed to wake up from his deep and restful sleep in time to pick us up and bring us to the airport. Our kindly concierge at the hotel we were staying helped us out by standing in the traffic of an 8-lane major road through the city flagging down a cab for us. As a result, we got to the airport just barely in time as boarding at really ended the KLM staff said they could no longer give us our assigned seating in steerage and with great reluctance gave us a first-class seat, even though clearly, we did not deserve it. The staff were obviously disappointed that such peasants as us we were getting such special treatment. This was the best punishment we ever got for malfeasance.

More recently, Chris and I have learned that we cannot handle steerage seats any more so we have been springing for Premium Economy. Pretty darn good, even if it is not first class. I know that  flying in luxury puts my ‘man of the people’ street creds in jeopardy, but so be it.

We thought we had purchased Premium economy seats for the 3 entire flights, but learned, much to our dismay, that this was not to be. Then when we walked through the aircraft, we realized there were such seats but they were denied to us. As a result, we were crammed in our seats like pigs in a sow gestation pen.  This reinforced our determination to fly better next time. After all, the alternative is to leave more money to our ungrateful lads. I realize that this story of woe will not attract much sympathy.

Then when we arrived in Toronto airport our woes continued.  In a word, that airport experienced a melee. We were sent to 3 different gates by Lufthansa, each a considerable distance apart, before we had the right one. Each one required a lengthy walk.

Added to that, I must admit, I worried a bit, about all the Hasidic Jews in the Montreal Pierre Elliot Trudeau airport, thinking they might attract modern terrorists,  but of course no terrorists ruined our tranquil flight. The airlines did a good job of that.

Even in such relative luxury I could not sleep in the plane. After all, when I tried to sleep, I had only been awake for about 12 hours. Some people managed to sleep but not me. I suffered. This was too much for my circadian rhythm to digest.

When we arrived in Bucharest Romania, we needed 3 different passes for her walker, even though the two previous airports required none. Once again German efficiency was lacking. Next, we had to walk down 3 flights of stairs carrying that well-permitted walker. Of course, all of this added to the stress of travel as we worried (again) about missing our connecting flight.

One thing is clear, flying is no longer idyllic if it ever was. Tranquil flights are a thing of the past. We all fly on white knuckles and guts.

Well, we did arrive in Bucharest, world weary.  Ready to go. To sleep that is.