So far its not going to plan! Gatwick was busy busy busy. We arrived at about 3:30am. Way too early that. Anywho for a 5:35 flight that should have been early enough but the queue was so big we were called out of the queue “Passengers for Verona make yourself known to staff” and were moved sharpish to the front.
Once we made it through security and bag drop and all that we attempted to buy breakfast. Worst service ever at EAT cafe. We asked for warm sandwiches, mistake! How can a toastie take twenty minutes? We had to run to the gate, food uneaten.
At the gate plane was half an hour late, people were shouting at the lady on the desk. We did not yell at her, I said please and thanks and have a great day. We were the first flight due to leave, so I bet the desk lady has a hideous day now.
Then when we got in the air I was crying from heights and then Jen made use of the sick bags. Lovely! I had to tell the steward and he was lovely about it. I felt rather embarrassed. But for the stewards it got
worse more interesting as “is there a doctor onboard?” came over the speakers as one of the passengers was quite a bit worse than Jen. The pilot diverted us, unscheduled landing in Paris. The air pressure was oppressive and overpowering. Jen was crying as his ears hurt like hell.
Landing was a relief as they opened the door to let the paramedics on. Twenty minutes or so later the ill passenger was wheeled off, conscious but not in a great way. The pilot and other crew were helpful and the steward has checked on Jen several times after the emergency passenger was off.
We were on the ground for a while in Paris which meant numbers obsessed D lost his cool. “When is this plane going to take off?” … “we’ve been on the ground here longer than it needed to be” …. “why couldn’t they carry on to Verona he wasn’t dying or anything?’ and way more ranting in a grumpy old man way. When we passed our original scheduled landing time for Verona and we were still in Paris he became really angry, a mini meltdown involving extreme sarcasm, chair punching, stomping and grunting followed. I am amazed no one complained. All that because he found out the time. The numbers were wrong.
The diversion made for some lush scenery though, and I am happy with easyJet and their staff. Thanks guys and girls. Hello Italy.