The Written Podcast: New York (Part 2) – A Virgin Experience

I’ve never flown with Virgin Atlantic and I had been told it’s a good airline to fly with from a colleague at work, but before I boarded the plane, I had the pleasure of being checked in. This process has been radically stereotyped by numerous comedians regarding the long wait times and the distance you have to walk to get to your gate. As Heathrow is the busiest airport in England, it would make sense if I were required to wait a while before checking in.

However, I arrived at the airport at 4AM, a whole 5 hours before my plane is due to take off, and even though I was expecting it to be heaving with people, there were hardly anyone there. The coach dropped me off at terminal 2, so I had to walk to terminal 3, which wasn’t as far as my imagination portrayed. When entering terminal 3, there were some people, but comparatively to being the busiest in the country, there were hardly anyone there, and they were all standing around doing nothing, apparently waiting for something to happen.

What they were waiting for was their check-in gates to open. It’s recommended to arrive at the airport 3 hours before you arrive to give you ample amount of time to check in and do whatever else is necessary to prepare yourself for the long flight. The thing is, I arrived an hour and a half before the check-in gate even opened, so I plonked myself down on a chair and watched as Virgin Atlantic employees slowly turned up for work.

When it was eventually time to get checked in for my flight, this was where my brain decided to freak out a little bit. The night before I made sure by triple checking that I had every piece of documentation I needed to get me through both airports in England and New York, but it still didn’t stop my brain from automatically feeling as if I had forgotten something. I nervously walked up to one of the ladies behind the desk, who had clearly only been awake for an hour at maximum, and presented my passport and the piece of paper detailing every bit of information I need regarding the flight I’d be on today. It was a big relief to learn everything was valid and I was able to check in.

All I needed to do to make it official was put my suitcase on the conveyor belt and watch it being whisked away into the void where it’d be sorted into the necessary compartments, to be chucked into the hold underneath the plane, where I’d pick it up at New York. Now, I’ve seen Toy Story 2, and whilst I cannot be sure that toys don’t come to life when we’re not watching them, the complicated network of overlapping conveyor belts designed to organise thousands of suitcases a day, flashed before my eyes. Once I’ve let it go, there’s no reclaiming it back until I get to New York, and of course a small portion of my subconscious was worrying about the possibility of the airline misplacing my suitcase and have it fly somewhere completely different; to the Bahamas for all I know, or maybe not actually have it fly anywhere but remain in England where since no one has reclaimed it back, would be put on the suspicious list and taken to one side to be instantly destroyed… but that was me just overthinking things as a result of being nervous due to this being my first ever trip abroad on my own.

After the expected thorough security checks, where you are required to take off your shoes, belts, jackets, watches, take your phone out of your pocket; place all your external belongings into trays and have them go through an X-ray and you walk through a metal detector. Once again I was faced with that nervous notion of even though I am perfectly safe and innocent, I still feel as if I am going to set all the scanners off. The metal detector is going to light up like a Christmas tree, the X-ray machine is going to detect every drug under the sun, and I’m going to be taken to one side and thoroughly “checked”…

But that didn’t happen. It was all normal. Nothing out of the ordinary happened when on the other side of the security checks, and soon it was time to board my plane. My gate number was 22, which wasn’t that long a walk. OK, it was some distance, but it wasn’t as exaggerated as those comedians portray, although a few jokes from Lee Evans did pop into my mind as I made my way through the airport, requiring me to stifle any laughs alas I’d look like an idiot for laughing to myself.

The plane ride itself wasn’t really anything special. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Once I had settled myself down in my seat, I switched on the entertainment screen in front of me and flicked through the movies. I had a 7 ½ flight so I was able to pack three films in: “Big”, “Captain Marvel”, and “The Simpsons Movie”. It should really be a testament to Virgin Atlantic’s quality that nothing particularly noteworthy happened. Once we were in the air, turbulence was thankfully minimal, they regularly came around with trollies of food and drink, which weren’t anything to crumble about and heck, they were free so why complain anyway. I didn’t require any help from the 10 stewardesses who were operating that day; the only interaction I had was purely when they came round with the trollies, but from what I saw when other people required assistance, they did so professionally and calmly, and if I had required help, I wouldn’t feel as if I was wrong to request the help. It was a relaxing and joyous ride, and I do recommend Virgin Atlantic if you are thinking about going abroad.

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT ARTICLE…

Thanks for reading

Antony Hudson

(TonyHadNouns)