badoc

OK then, here we go. Now are you sitting comfortably?

I was on an overnight flight from Tanzania having just sucessfully climbed Mt Kilimanjaro so feeling quite pleased with myself. There was quite a large group of us but we were scattered around the AC but unfortunately all in whY as it was a charity event.

I have not had a LH flight down the back for almost 8 years and so I realised this might not be quite what I have grown accustomed to.

So, having had dinner (if you could call it that) and a few beers before boarding I felt quite pleased that soon I would be reunited with Mrs badoc and the two juniors.

Due to sleep concerns, I decided to take a sleeping tablet (zopiclone) to help the night pass by, as I never thought I would get any shuteye being near vertical in some kind of torture enclosure.

Just before wedging myself against the window with a variety of (brought specially for padding) clothing, I decided to go and say goodnight to the rest of our team (I was soon to find out that part was easier when we were in tents).

Whilst bending down to talk to a colleague I felt someone touch me on the shoulder and assumed it was another pax passing by to visit the toilet cubicle. It happened again and then on the third touch I heard someone say 'Is he always like this?' and realised they were talking about me. The stewardess said (in quite a humerous way) if I obstructed the aisle any more they were going to lift me up and put me on the trolley and wheel me back to my seat

Well, the zopiclone was kicking in now and together with the last gin and tonic I thought it sounded a wonderful idea, as I had never had a ride down the aisle on a trolley.

The next thing I know is I am cross-legged astride the duty-free, hurtling down the cabin offering people drinks, perfume and the like I can tell you, one really does feel quite high up there.

Fortunately the cabin was in semi-darkness (or it may have just been me) and so I was under the impression my work colleagues (for perhaps the next 30 years) were oblivious to this rather scene that was unfolding.

Many people did think the malaria tablets had finally got to them as 'several of them had had a really odd dream where I was being pushed down the aeroplane on top of a trolley' but sadly once this story was corroberated between them I was labelled a bona fide troley dolly

Strangely the crew seemed genuinely pleased to have a passenger help with the service. I blamed them (KLM) for serving such strong gins and secretly wondered whether such joviality would ever be allowed on my favourite airline