:: GussetBLOG ::

:: Tuesday, July 24, 2007 ::

Welcome to Munich

There is a hierarchy of airline stewardship. They start off working for the budget airlines as bubbly, orange-clad, orange-skinned, bright young things. They progress through the ranks until they reach British Airways. By then the men are grey haired and astute looking, giving the impression that the pilot trying out a different job for the day. The women have a permagrin etched into their faces, the impression of any emotion other than shear joy is only visible through the eyes or audible in tone of voice. "You want half tomato juice half apple juice?" one repeats back to the guy in front of me, smiling like kindergarten teacher whilst betrayed by a faltering voice and the eyes of toddler watching a magic act. "I've never heard of anyone ask for that before," she feigns interestedly despite being quiet obviously horrified.

As we alight they stand at the front guessing whether they should address their gratitude for your choice of airline to you in German or English. I get English, Mrs P gets German. I later find out that this was because I smiled at them.

A glass sided escalator takes us to the gate, the 34degC heat outside has been magnified to a near deadly slow-cooking temperature inside. As we stand there being dragged onward at an agonisingly slow pace I fell like a pizza in an automated oven. Longpig and pineapple pizza anyone?

We survive the slow roasting, emerging gasping for air. The open walkway we are deposited onto is immediately above the smoking area (is there a no-smoking area?) of one of the restaurants. Huge lungfuls off second hand smoke are drawn in and quickly spluttered back out. Welcome to Germany.

Edit: Photo set here.

Labels: Germany, Humour, Travel

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