Everything for a dear client, or about the humanity of the London-Vienna flight pilot
This story, like the previous one, will be devoted to the human attitude of Europeans (in this case, the British) to each other. I had a chance to return home from London somehow. I am not a businesswoman, but an ordinary tourist who flew on the British Caledoscope tour with an air connection from Incomarthur. So. Behind were 2 weeks of unforgettable vacation. But what about adventures? And they started on the way to the airport.
The hotel where the group spent their last night in London was located quite far from the final tube line. We had to go 4 bus stops. Buses run at fixed times. We have planes in the morning. Time is tight, given the fact that we only need to go by metro for about an hour. Fortunately, it was Heathrow Airport - we immediately got to the terminal by metro. We wait. We are me and our former compatriot in the USSR, an ex-Muscovite living in the States. Thank God, she spoke good English (which is not surprising). If I were on my own, I would have panicked, because I can ask a question, but not always UNDERSTAND THE ANSWER. The main thing is not to ask the right question, but to try to understand the answer (this is the scourge of all "Soviet" schoolchildren, because in the USSR they taught English SO, so that no one understood anything and could not say - politics, sir). We arrived by bus to the metro station - it is closed for scheduled maintenance for 3 hours. Light panic (we have). We ask people like us who are waiting: what to do. They suggested that now a bus would come from a neighboring station and take us for FREE to the nearest working metro station.
The word FREE works magically and, as it should be, by the way. Because in my sweaty palm there are squeezed pounds exactly on the subway and not a pound more. Restrained, however. Rather, the Prymark store on Oxford Street did its "dirty" job))). That is, there is no money for a taxi. And the financial side of the issue is unknown, despite the fact that with my English and with my time limit, the taxi driver could tell me such a sum that it would be enough for me to fly to Mars back and forth, and for him to live comfortably for six months in the center of London. Although I doubt that they have accepted it. These are not taxi drivers of Simferopol))). I was also surprised that there was NOT an abundance of taxis near the idle metro station, as is customary with us, when 3 skins are peeled from you, even if you die or are injured. Long story short, the bus has arrived. We were taken to the nearest working station. Half done. It seemed - here it is, the plane and you are already flying. An, no. The plane is still a good two hours before landing. I said goodbye to a tourist from the USA (her plane was earlier). I'm sitting in the waiting room. I look forward to it. I lazily glance at the scoreboard. Half an hour later I notice that all flights are delayed. All!!! ! Well, I don't think mine will last. How naive I was)) But I don’t know this yet. I'm starting to get nervous because I have a connecting flight in Vienna. And I only have 1 hour to change. I understand that if the plane is delayed in London, then how will I get on the plane in Vienna? 10 minutes before the announcement of the gate number on the scoreboard, I approach the scoreboard and (oh, miracle! ) I hear Russian speech and people are talking about my flight. Well, I don't think I'll be lost. I'll stick with my tail)).
The Russians turned out to be an elderly Jewish couple flying from the States to Kyiv via Vienna. We are waiting like everyone else. Boarding is already 40 minutes late. I understand that until I EVER arrive in Vienna, my plane in Vienna will not wait for me. Finally, we boarded the plane. Everyone hid their things, got comfortable, sat down, buckled up. And... we sit like this for 20 minutes. And then the pilot of the plane (a woman) says something and everyone starts walking around the cabin, relaxed. I almost didn’t understand anything, but I understood one thing, that for now we are not flying anywhere. I'm in mild shock. The neighbors at the opposite window (Oh, again a miracle! ) is the married couple who spoke Russian at the scoreboard. I, with agility unusual for me, ask the German neighbor on the left to ask her neighbor on the left to ask the couple to pay attention to me. The German looked at me SO, as if I had asked her for her wallet forever.
Imagine my agony - to ask a German woman in English. . . I think that Nikulin in "The Diamond Hand" was more convincing (Are you deaf and dumb? - Yes! ) So, I ask the man - what did the pilot say? He says to me - don't you understand a damn thing (original question)? I answered in the affirmative in his own style. And he briefly explained to me that the pilot warned that we would fly in 9 minutes, because something had happened at the airport. (And not only in Heathrow, but also in Gatwick). Therefore, all planes are standing. We are 16th in line. Well, here I strained all the remnants of all the English texts that I had ever learned in my life, even remembered the text about Lenin (we shall go the other way - we will go the other way) and with gestures, in words, asked the stewardess to tell the pilots what my transfer in Vienna to Boryspil is very close in time. The stewardess smiled sweetly and promised to transfer.
At last we took off. Some time after the start of the flight, the aircraft commander said something again. From which I clearly heard the magic word "Boryspil. " Again they translated to me: she announced that there were transit passengers in the cabin. But the passenger who flies from Vienna to Boryspil needs it the fastest. that is, me. And she said - WE WILL FLY FASTER. And we really flew faster. Much faster. Because, looking out the porthole, I did not even see the narrow ribbons of roads. We just hovered in the clouds like a spaceship (just kidding). In short, we arrived in Vienna 15 minutes before the departure of my plane. During the exit from the plane, I heard that a couple of people in front of me spoke excellent Russian, but apparently they enjoyed my heroic attempts to compose English phrases for a German woman.
I galloped to the terminal, checked in and immediately boarded my plane. It is clear that my suitcase stayed overnight in Vienna. But these are all trifles compared to what I managed to get on the plane!! ! The suitcase arrived safely on the next flight the next morning. It "smelled" with such amber that they took it out to me in a separate bag and asked why such a stench? Can I bring fish? No, I just carried milk in a small liter canister (they sell them there) and the movers safely broke it for me. It is not surprising that they broke it, because I saw HOW luggage is loaded and with what pleasure the loaders deliberately leave it. Here, probably. the solidarity of loaders from all over the world works. BUT…. I later found out that if I had been hopelessly late, I could have safely stayed in Vienna. I would have been put up in a hotel and sent on the next flight. I must say right away that such bonuses are given only to transit passengers, and not to those who would buy tickets separately from London to Vienna and from Vienna to Kyiv.
So, I have a question: Maybe I shouldn't have rushed! )))
Here is such a true story about the "decaying" West.