Why did we take KLM airways to Portugal?
– Because we could fly nonstop from San Francisco
-Because we could visit Amsterdam on our way back
-Because we thought the Royal Dutch Airline would give us royal Dutch treatment.
Well, at least two out of three reasons were true. Three not so much. Welcome to anchovy class where the legroom is clearly optional.
Our first indignity on arriving at the airport was giving up our carefully stuffed, perfectly sized carry on bags because they weigh them! Once we emplaned and saw our seats we knew why. Tiny overhead space. In fact, our other carry on, our backpacks, needed to go in the overhead bins so we could squeeze our feet under the seats in front of us.
And the cuisine on this royal flight? Chicken in gruel. For those not familiar with this Dickensian sauce, that’s flour water , water, fat and salt made into a white paste that glues your four pieces of rubber to the plastic tray. This was accompanied by pasty potato mush, some dead vegetables and a white roll. For dessert? Something brown and oily with shreds of WTF was that. Fortunately I had absconded with two delicious cookies from the impeccably perfect wedding we attended the night before. I pulled those dainty, little gems out of my bag and toasted the lovely couple once more from our lofty perch.
Why do I dwell on the indignities of this flight? Perhaps it is due to the fact that I can’t sleep. I shared a sleeping pill with A. after dinner and we nodded out for exactly 90 minutes, leaving us, oh, seven more hours to kill. He spent his time picking out songs for his next foray at El Rio and boning up on photography blogs. I am writing this post and the guy next to me is actually sleeping. He just sold his little Belgian software company to Autodesk. He must be dreaming about his forthcoming millions while still stuck for now in anchovy class.
One other tidbit about my seat mate is he looked and sounded like the sexy rich guy with the inscrutable European accent on the summer TV show Royal Pains. Which only seems reasonable as we slink our way across the Atlantic on what I have now dubbed Royal Pains Airways.