A Big Plane and a Big Adventure
My First International Flight
I was about to embark on my first international flight, a hop of three and a half hours from Colombo to Dubai. I had only flown on Air Ceylon’s domestic planes on Avro’s and DC-4s. This was a whole new experience for me.
I wore my best suit, a dark navy Crimplene that matched my platform shoes. It was my most expensive outfit, and I only wore it for special occasions. I checked in my luggage, a blue Ford suitcase, and went through immigration. The immigration officer scrutinised my passport, freshly issued ten days ago. His eyes darted to the certificate that said my rice ration book had been surrendered to the government. I held my breath as he flipped through the pages, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he stamped my passport and returned it to me with a curt nod. The security officer asked me if I was going to study abroad. I smiled and said no. It was 10 p.m. when I boarded the bus to the tarmac.
There, I saw the plane that would take me across the seas. It was a Boeing 747, a huge beast that towered over everything else. It was longer than the terminal building and had two decks. It was the most impressive thing I had ever seen. It was tall, at least six floors high from the ground up. Blue and yellow stripes adorned its large body. I felt like an astronaut, getting into an Apollo spacecraft.
I climbed the steps and entered the 747, where two women in kabaya uniforms greeted me. They were beautiful and charming. Up to then, I had only seen them in magazines and billboards. They were slender, of medium height, and they walked stylishly with their steps. One looked at me as I tried to stow my hand luggage in the overhead compartment, something I had never done before, and helped me with a smile. I was smitten by the charm of the Singaporean girls. They were exactly what I had imagined them.
The upper deck was for the first-class passengers, who had access to a spiral staircase.
I sat next to a couple, both around mid-forty, my parents’ age. They were from South Africa and spoke with an accent that sounded strange. He wore a black shirt and pants and the woman, a green top and brown pants.
Meanwhile, smiling, the Singapore girls made their way along the aisle of the plane at a brisk pace.
“Hello, I’m Pieter, and this is my wife, Anna. We’re on our way to Dubai for a holiday. Where are you headed?” Pieter asked me.
“I’m Denzil. I’m going to Dubai.” I replied.
“Is this your first time flying internationally?” Anna asked me.
“Yes, it is. How did you know?” I asked.
“Well, you look a bit nervous and excited at the same time.” She said.
“I’ve never been on such a big plane before.” I said.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. It’s a smooth and comfortable flight. The crew are very nice, and the food is delicious.” Pieter said.
“Really? What kind of food do they serve?” I asked.
“They have different options. You can choose between Western or Asian cuisine. We usually go for the Asian one since we like spicy food.” Anna said.
“I think I’ll do the same. I love Singaporean noodles.” I said.
The flight, SQ707, took off at 10:35 p.m.
We continued our conversation throughout the flight, discussing our families, hobbies, and dreams. They were very friendly and curious about my life in Sri Lanka. They told me stories about their travels around the world and their adventures in South Africa.
Half an hour into the flight, the crew served us our meals. I chose the Singapore noodles as Pieter and Anna had suggested, and they were right — it was delicious. We ate while chatting and laughing, enjoying each other’s company.
I felt relaxed and happy on my first international flight, thanks to my new friends and the wonderful service of Singapore Airlines. In my trouser pocket, I felt the rosary that my mother had put in before I left home a few hours ago.
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