Snow airport My worst flight delay

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Every day we hear about passengers being delayed and their flights cancelled. When it happens to you, you feel like you are the only one that it has happened to and the world around you is caving in.
You are not alone and, to make the case, I wanted to share a personal experience and my worst flight-delay.

The wrong airport:

The first part of the journey went off as planned without any drama. Bags had been checked in and boarding passes presented. My friend and I were eagerly awaiting take off in anticipation for arriving home for Christmas. We both were studying in the Netherlands and were due to arrive at Liverpool John Lennon airport, where my dad was waiting to collect us.
Now, the weather was not exactly ideal, snow was covering the ground beneath us and the winds were picking up quite some speed. The conditions did not prevent the mechanical bird from taking wing and all was thought to be well.
The flight was uneventful and the majority of it had passed when the pilot announced that, after circling Liverpool airport for half an hour, the airport was now closed. We would be re-routed to Manchester to land, before jetting back to the intended destination of Liverpool.
Little information was forthcoming from the airline and we were instructed to sit tight and be patient. Immediately, there were rumblings of discontent from some passengers but the majority just let out a sigh and consigned themselves to their orange and grey seats.
Time passed but still no information, or at least no accurate information, had reached the human cargo. We were told that the ground staff had to de-ice the wings before we could once again take wing. That was perfectly acceptable, except that my fellow passengers and I were receiving messages from the outside that stated that Liverpool was closed and would not be re-opening until the white stuff had stopped falling from the sky. My dad had informed me that Liverpool was shut and would not be re-opening.

Tension rises:

Slowly but surely, the once calm and sensible passengers, who at first stated “what can they do about the weather?”, were now becoming irate and disillusioned with the fact they were still stuck on a plane. I can get anxious at the best of times but,as I sat tensely thumbing through a copy of Time magazine, I started to become highly irritable. I have to say that it did not help proceedings or my blood pressure levels that the issue of Time I was reading was celebrating the person of the year. That year happened to be the year of the collective protester. That year had been one of the most turbulent years in recent history, the year people remembered how to protest, and here I was, contained within a metal tube against all good sense and logic.
I was not the only one feeling the pressure and a growing urge to vacate the aircraft. A woman not so far from retirement age would sporadically march the length of the cabin demanding to be let off because her business was losing money.
The cabin cargo was becoming more irritated by the second. Still, no information was forthcoming. The pilot would occasionally make an appearance to say that we would be leaving in a matter of minutes. With each message, the reply of the passengers became more aggressive, as they were demanding to be let off the plane. At this point, three or more hours had passed by and we were still no nearer to leaving the aircraft.
While I was trapped in the orange and white tube, my Dad was doing circles of Manchester airport waiting for an update. He had already been to Liverpool and wasted half an afternoon waiting.

Decision time:

After much time had passed and the angry passengers had been subdued due to the exhaustion of complaining, a decision was made to release us into the terminal at Manchester. Finally, my feet touched the snow covered ground of Manchester and I was breathing in the lovely polluted air of the North West of England once more.
Now, this flight-delay was caused by the weather but it was the airline's decision to keep us aboard the plane and hold on to the lingering hope that we could take to the skies once more and arrive in Liverpool.
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