Aeroplane Jane

Tuesday 27th March 2012

As Betsie and I tackle the madness that is Cape Town and the Little Crake twitch, I am distracted from my usual expectation of nausea on these flights by the arrival of a small elderly lady to the front of the plane.  She is helped on board by none other than the captain and two hosties.  I realize with disappointment that she is being aimed a the seat next to me.  The businessman on the isle seat had already laid claim to the spare seat with his case and neatly folded copy of The Star. Moments before he had fastened his seatbelt with just "von" click. I couldn't see the look on his face when the sweet cabin attendant gestured to the middle seat but am sure he plastered the salesman's grimace on his face before cheerfully leeaping up to make space for the Aunty.

The Aunty was gracefully placed into 7B and with a flourish her hand luggage was stowed away and her handbag safely on her lap. When the discussions with the hostie around her health started my ears really pricked up. The Afrikaans words flew past me and she was assured she just needed to press the big red button above her head if she needed help. I glanced up and realized the big red button was about twenty centimeters above her reach. "Good luck Aunty" I whispered to myself.

Within three seconds of businessman and I being left alone with the Aunty, he was back to his newspaper and I watched in amazement as the Aunty grabbed for her inhaler. I was in for an interesting trip. The Aunty was having a serious panic attack and just about everything was going wrong. She grabbed randomly at the two ends of her seatbelt to secure her shaking body to the blue leather seat. She couldn't get the to connect in just "von" click and reached for the inhaler again.  As if on cue, let's call her Candy, arrived to check up on her special care patient. Candy came to the rescue just as the businessman wondered where his second strap has disappeared to. Strap passed back to businessman and the Aunty was secure once she had reached under her small behind to get the right strap. By now we had started taxiing to the runway.

The Aunty then decided she needed a pill to calm her down. Being too short to reach her handbag which had slid to the floor during the seatbelt incident, I managed to reach down and grab a handle and pass it to her after a pleading look. Several lengthy seconds passed by while she scrambled for the white box with the pink writing. She slid out the blister pack and an array of perfectly pink pills were hurriedly thumbed until she had her rescue meds. Another suck on the inhaler before asking for her bottle of water which was eventually found stowed away in the galley. Pill almost inhaled before the handbag slid down her shins and onto the carpet. Captain reminded everyone to switch off their cellphones and electronic equipment. Guess what! Yes, I reached down the get the bag and was given permission to find her purse and remove out the slimmest cellphone I had ever held and find the off button. Not an easy feat with lights switched off for take off...

The Aunty closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed. Just enough time to realize she didn't have her id book and air ticket. Another frantic scramble through her handbag which she managed to grab with two fingers this time around. By this time we had reached the runway and Candy was heading for her own seat at the front of the plane. I knew I had to act fast so started a rapid burst of questions about everything other than her health, her id book, her ticket and the  pill she had just swallowed. By the time we had revved the engines she knew I didn't like flying, was missing my husband and loved take offs. I was so busy chatting that we both missed the takeoff and once in the air, for very different reasons, we're somewhat relieved.

The rural views around Lanseria airport are really spectacular. The farms, small holdings and new golf estates really make for a good reason to always book a window seat.  I had checked Bets and I in this morning and as she also likes the window seat I got her 8A. Strange not sitting next to each other but for some reason it works. Things with Bets always just find a way of working out. That's what is so fab about her in every way. The Aunty tells me she doesn't want to see the view but I am not beyond keeping her distracted with vivid descriptions of the landscape, the chicken farms and how much water is in the winding river below us. I hope the pink pill starts to kick in soon.  I am suddenly reminded of Elvira's pink pills from Dr So-and-so that we're supposed to help ladies with their constitutions many years ago.

Before the seatbelt sign is off I have established she was visiting her daughter before going back to the Cape to stay with her son for a few days. She will catch a bus to her home in Oudshoorn this weekend before the big traffic starts. Now a big part of me is curious about the big traffic in a place like Oudshoorn. Do I ask or do I leave it. I decide to just nod which encourages her to continue the story about where she lives before the great truth is revealed. The KKNK starts on the weekend and then all hell breaks loose in that part of the world. Thousands of Afrikaans fans decend on this tiny village, known only really for its love of ostriches,  once a year and take over any signs of normality for a week. The Aunty describes what it is like to not be able to drive anywhere, just pop down to the shops for a loaf of bread and the prices they charge for parking while the village makes the most of the week to relieve the visitors of their hard earned cash.

By now the pink pill has done its job.  Unfortunately I have been so busy making sure the Aunty is okay and doesn't run amok in the plane that I have not followed my normal procedures to ensure a vomit-free flight.  I take a long deep breath, just in time to pick up the last fumes from the inhaler that is still working overtime next to me. It isn't helping the woozy feeling in my head or throat. I close my eyes and feel the control slide back to me.  Half listening to the chattering next to me I open one eye and see the businessman furiously editing a document. The sound of him clicking his pen on and off continually does briefly distract me from the task at hand. I open the other eye and ask the Aunty nicely whether the pill is doing its thing and she nods. I stare out the window into nothing as the clouds have a engulfed us by now. I hear a yawn next to me and reach into the seat pocket in front of me for my iPad. There's a story in here somewhere...

*  Aeroplane Jane title borrowed from Karen Zoid - a fabulous song about airline travel and the passengers she has around her and what they get up to.