I flew Adam Air to Bali. On my way there the flight was delayed by over an hour. I didn’t bother to ask questions. It wasn’t until I boarded the plane that I knew I was in trouble. I checked the boarding pass when I got on the plane… 14A… Window seat… looks like about half-way back of the plan. I slowly make my way down the aisle… Wow, an emergency exit seat. And I didn’t even ask for it. Great! It wasn’t until I went to put my bag overhead that I realized that there were already two seats occupied, and only two seats. I pull out my ticket again to explain to whoever was occupying my nice big window emergency row seat that I have the pass for 14A. I start in my broken Bahasa to explain when I look at the sticker and see that 14A doesn’t exist.
Now, I’ve made some corny jokes about flying third class hanging on to the wing (thanks for that gene Dad) but literally 14A would have been just the wrong side of the emergency exit door over the wing.
I wander back up the aisle to a flight attendant who looked at my boarding pass and pointed to where I was planning on sitting. He was clearly annoyed at my incompetence in not being able to find my seat. He was clearly confused when I tried to point out that there isn’t a seat. His response was, “Oh. Back of plane middle seat.” Shit.
I tried to squeeze in that non-reclining seat in the middle of the back row. It wasn’t until the guy next to me pointed out to the flight attendant that my legs were spread so wide that he couldn’t sit in his seat that I was moved again to an aisle seat… which was someone else’s seat.
By this point, children were already sharing a seat. They actually make a special seatbelt for that. Two little waist bands clip into the existing seatbelt allowing two small children to share a seat. This really isn’t a problem because as soon as the plane is airborne the parents let them out to terrorize other parts of the plane.
The guy in front of me also insisted on pushing his seat back as far as it would allow. I thought he might be sympathetic to my cause as he was a taller white guy, and tried to point out that it was my knee that was stopping him. All he said was, “Seat back,” and pushed harder. Wasn’t until later I realized he was French.
Bali is beautiful. That’s all there is to it. I sat this afternoon on the beach for an hour. I chatted a bit with the vendors who kept harassing me. They’re persistent, but desperate. Business has been rough since the last Bali Bombing. The busy Christmas season still left me with 50 meters of shoreline to myself.
Back on the airline topic, I ate the snack that was handed out in a box. It was a muffin that defied all my preconceived notions of muffins. Usually they crumble. Sometimes they’re more cupcake like, but those have crumbs too. Not these muffins. You could pull them apart in any direction and they would tear perfectly. I passed a significant amount of time ripping apart my bright green and orange muffin into different shapes: squares, triangles, canoes. Each came out perfectly smooth.
Bali was absolutely beautiful. I will definitely be back very soon.