What. A. Flight.

Boarding was nearly as smooth as a babies bottom. Take off was so smooth I heard the Captain egotistically exclaim, “I buttered that bread, didn’t I?” Everything was so smooth that our 1 hour 45 minuite flight turned into a 1 hour 15 minute flight. Even though I didn’t get the whole row to myself, I was sitting pretty. For a while.

As we began our approach to the airport, the flight deck captain broke the silence over the intercom with the annoying nasally voice we have all learned to love:

“Gooooood morning everyone……….. it seems that there is…. there happens to be……… it looks like we will have to stay up in the air for a little while loooongerrrr…………… do to a lack of visibility caused by low lying………… low lying fog. Don’t worry. We have plenty of…………. fuel. We Thank you for your patients.” Click.

We spent a good 45 minutes flying over the airport. Circling. Circling. Circling. The captain broke the sound of silence again:

“Hello darkness my old friend…” oh wait, that’s not right. He said – “Hello again folks. Bad news is that the fog hasn’t risen. The good news is that ground control has given us clearance to make an attempt to land. We only have one shot at it though with the remaining amount of fuel we have.” Oh great. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. He continued, “during our attempt, if we don’t deem it safe to land, we will be diverted to Calgary airport. Once again, thanks for your patients.” Click.

All 78 passengers crossed there fingers, toes, arms, legs and some probably with even their eyes crossed. We began to feel the plane sink towards the ground. Slowly. Slowly. As we looked out the window we saw the the fog creeping nearer. It was thick. It was low. As we entered it, we were completely blind as to where the ground was. Seconds went by. Minutes went by. The sudden clunk and chunk of the landing gear lowering raised our hopes. Slowly the fog started to clear. 200 feet. 175 feet. 150 feet. It was at that moment that the engines howled and the force of thrust pushed us back into our seats. No dice. At 150 feet above the ground, the captain and co-captian could not see the approach of the runway and decided it was not worth the risk.

Also at that moment, the polite, well mannered Canadian passengers I was talking about earlier – turned into a bunch of foul mouthed sounding seamen/women. Though I was frustersted, my parents can be proud that I did not join in…. this time.

Being stuck up in the air circling the airport is a first for me. Being 150 feet off the ground and then having to ascend back to 19,000 feet is a first for me. Being re-routed to a different airport many kilometers away from my final destination is a first for me. I start a new job tomorrow and I’m not even sure if I will make it. It’s all part of the adventure I suppose.

What’s the moral this time? “Everyone should live up to the standards of a polite Canadian”? Or, “In frustrating and unknown times, be thankful they didn’t crash the plane”? What about, “if they offer you a second helping of airplane cookies, don’t worry about your waist line just take the stale things”?

FYI – I am currently in Calgary. Stay tuned.