Oh Saudia air. I have ridden trains galore and enough chicken buses I should have contracted the Avian flu. Yet for some reason even with the dilapidated AirAsia flights and the joys of any god awful American carrier, I still assume all international flights to be at least to a particular standard of order. But we all know what assuming does.
So since I've made it to Sri Lanka on zero airplane sleep, slept for the past 18 hours only to wake to birds calling and the buzz of scooters zipping by I feel it is only appropriate to reminisce on exactly how I got here.
Step 1: Discovering your airline and layover airport are dry (the dryness I'm referring to has nothing to do with climate). I'm not a huge drinker on flights but when you're trapped on board for 13 hours or longer with crying children, snoring parents, unpredictable light levels and lord knows what else, sometimes it's nice to have a crappy glass of wine with your soggy dinner to chase down the muscle relaxer that will knock you out until you wake up at your destination. Yes, I know responsible prescription drug use at it's finest. Back to the point, never have I encountered an airline that just didn't serve, period. Moving forward... when flying into Saudi Arabia I was fully aware and prepared to stay in the airport for the duration of my 11 hours layover, naively hoping as one has not legally crossed into the country, there would be the opportunity to enjoy a beverage. Return to the word naive
Step 2: A positive experience. Flying on an airline that includes a mosque. Okay well at least this is what they're calling it. Less so a mosque and more so the removable of 3 center rows of seats at the back of the plane to create a prayer space, blocked off by 2 curtains. Of the four times I passed by in search of water or food, I saw no one praying. Only men sitting lounged out on pillows chatting. Seemed like a pretty sweet deal to me. However, I assumed it would culturally offensive if I attempted to join.
Step 3: Trapped in the airport. This a crucial step in the cross cultural experience without ever officially entering a foreign nation. I must say, this one turned into more of a positive than a negative. Don't get me wrong, I'm not telling you to run out and book an obnoxious layover just to hang out in the airport. But I certainly learned a lesson in smiling. After "nice-ing" my way into the first class/premier lounge in Riyadh, I discovered something glorious. Something I didn't think I would be seeing for this layover : BEER! Don't ask me how they do it and no I didn't check the ABV because I didn't want to cry. But somehow, by some gift of Allah, the fridges full of juice, water, and soda also contained wait for it....... Budweiser. Half in Arabic, half in English (probably should have photographed that one but oh well). I couldn't act on my impulses to grab one and dance with glee immediately as I looked around myself and saw that in a room of about 40 people, there were only 5 other women all in full abaya (or burka). Of the approximately 35 men, 4 were dressed in conservative "western clothing" and the rest in thobes and ghutra (http://www.saudinf.com/main/q031.htm). See the link for definitions of the proper names of Saudi dress. Given how much the little freckled red head was already a point of attention in the lounge, I chose to refrain until a few hours later when some European men arrive and imbibed in a tasty adult beverage. All in all, I must say, if you can make your way into one of these lounges, it's well worth it. Some Argentines came in later and paid about $30 each for a "pass" in. I would have certainly paid if the attendant made me; well worth the free food, drink, wifi and the can of Budweiser. Winning all around.
Step 4: A quick note on smoking in Saudi airports. I think we have all reverted to our puritanical roots in regards to smoking in the US. Don't get me wrong, I find it pretty disgusting (when I'm sober) and think kids need to know more about the "dangers of smoking". Not the point. Think to your closest airport.. Dulles? LAX? Heathrow? Reagan? Where is the smoking room? Is there one? Is it a tiny room with poor ventilation? Is it banned upon entering the airport all together? Well not to worry, in Riyadh International, you need not trap yourself in a small room with everyone else's second hand smoke. No, just make you're way to the end of the corridor in any terminal and light up. Right there, ten feet from the small child staring up at you in awe.
Step 5 (and this is where it gets fun for those still reading): Being the only and I mean only caucasian woman (person) on your entirely full airbus flight from Riyadh to Colombo. I always crack that Americans are so good at following the rules. We queue up beautifully. We are quick to put our tray tables into the upright positions and return our luggage to the overhead storage bins. Just to give you an idea of this flight. Upon boarding in Riyadh (and I love this expression coming up), it was like herding cats. As though seat numbers were a mere suggestion. I won't even attempt to touch the woman who made it on board with the WRONG boarding pass. In flight it became a song and dance (at times literally) of musical chairs, shouting across rows, aisles and cabins to family (or probably not). The woman three seats from me decided to listen to music with about an hour plus left in the flight. She had no earphones, on full blast and no one complained. One flight attendant even laughed and danced briefly while moving into the first class cabin. Then comes the landing : there's people on their cellphones, people making coffee, music still playing, the poor flight attendant just trying to get guests to use a seatbelt, the small woman shoving her fingers in her ear canal to try to equalize pressure. Oh, and why wait till we hit the gate to grab your bags? PSH this is Saudia Air! Hit the tarmac and bing! Up go at least five guests in my cabin alone retreiving their personal items as though it will get them home quicker, which is impossible given they still have to go through baggage claim (see the final step, step 6).
Step 6: Baggage claim. Note that I skipped completely over immigration, customs or anything official. These were upsettingly anti-climatic. Baggage claim is where it's at in Colombo. All passangers on the airbus 330 (approximately 300 all together!) swarm the carosel as though their lives depend on it. And then there's me. Little panicked me, anxiously awaiting my bag after rumors that Saudia has a reputation for losing luggage after long layovers. Freaking out. 5 minutes pass, no bag. 20 minutes pass, no bag. At about minute 30, it begins. The water. No joke, not coming from the sky, not leaking through the ceiling or floor. In boxes on the carosel. First a couple dozen. Then another batch of a couple dozen. Again and again until there are more boxes of Saudi Arabian water on the carosel than there are suitcases. All in all a few hundred of these circle are everyone frantically looks for their names on the orange or white identical boxes that contain their purchase. (Side note: I shall attempt to get to the bottom of this whole water thing before I leave). Finally after about an hour, my happy little green Gregory backpack comes scooting out of the back with yet even moreee boxes of water and off I go.
A stubborn 2km walk from the airport to the bus. Two bus rides and about an 18 hour night sleep. It's 8AM in Negombo, Sri Lanka and I'm going to the beach.
Denise AWESOME blog entry- keep them coming. Do it. I'll be reading them all. - Garrick
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