VI. The way back.

We wake up way before dawn and we’re soon on our way, the Nissan humming nicely as we tackle the Cordillera and then the way down towards Antofagasta. The truckers are still fast asleep and we encounter only a freight train, running on the tracks parallel to the road.

LA127
ANF-SCL
CC-BEL – Airbus A321
10:37 – 12:13
Seat 29A – Y

Antofagasta airport is decidedly utilitarian when it comes to facilities and this seemingly includes insulation from the outside. There is some movement of military aircrafts, their noise and jet exhausts filtering the departure lounge, but we’re not complaining here!



.



Eventually, time comes for boarding. Once again it’s by window-middle-aisle and, once again, a fairly full A321.



.



We taxi past the hangars hosting what look like F-16s and, after a moment, we’re up in the air.



.


.


.



I nod off, falling in a somewhat agitated slumber. I wake up and find the reason for it.




But before I can fall into even more nightmares, we’re back on land at the Nuevo Puhadel.


.


.


.



BA250
SCL-LHR
G-ZBKN – Boeing 787-9
14:50 – 10:10
Seat 1E – F

Rucksack picked up and deposited again, we leave Chile with, I have to admit, a bit of sadness. This is also my last flight as a BA employee and, although a decision I don’t regret (especially given the current circumstances) it’s hard not to feel a twinge of nostalgia. The airline industry was incredibly fascinating and BA, for all its shortfalls, gave me a great career, lots of friends and, last but not least, has allowed me to meet my wife. However strong my dislike for Mr Cruz and his cronies is, I can’t deny a profound gratitude to the airline and a feeling of investment in it, like perhaps I’ll never feel for another employer.

But enough of this, on with the trip. We’re in the new wing of the airport and, sooner or later, the entire shebang will look like this.




Outside is a QF 747. Qantas, on all my years of standby, is an airline I always failed to try out. For the umpteenth time I promise myself to try out their Longreaches, not knowing that, less than a year after, they’d be all gone. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero, said Horace a long time ago: not for the first time, I tell myself he’s right.


Anyway, today’s load in First is 5. Three paying customers and us interlopers. I plonk myself in 1E, OH in 2K. A Chilean couple is in 2DE, a British man in 2A. I’ll be using 1K as my dépendance overnight but, for now, I’m free to enjoy the aisle seat with the shields up and down.


.

.




Santiago, I’ve known this from previous flights, has a particularly weak catering even for BA standards (but friends who are frequent fliers on KLM and Alitalia say it’s not much better over there). Menus:



.


.


.


.



Still, time for some amouse-bouche, champagne and the now obligatory cheese platter. Wasn't in the mood for anything else really.


.



And, after that, I made my own bed at seat 1E - mattress, pillow & the thin blanket, leaving the duvet to OH - and slept like a baby.

Morning arrives and, with that, breakfast. Again I’m not that hungry, so smoothie and fruit will suffice, together with another mugful of coffee, the great Union brew that I hope BA will continue to serve ad infinitum.



.


.


And, with that, terminates my last journey as an airline employee.This is it. I hope you enjoyed the reading; if you want more, please check out my blog here for other stories.