The Departure:
Its go time.
We started walking the plank that leads into the plane; as in a ships plank, at least that's what I imagined it to be; that may have had something to do with current nervousness, and my fondness for pirate movies when I was a kid.
I could feel the sweat starting to happen. Neither Eve or I had ever flown before so we're quite nervous. Once we got on the plane, [DC-8] we found our seats a few of rows behind the wing, stowed our carry on bag and tried to relax.
After a few minutes we began to mellow out a bit, but still not real comfortable about the flying thing. The rest of the gang weren't nervous at all, maybe they got high before getting on the plane. I'm not so sure if getting high would have made Eve and I any less nervous; probably not.
Oh well, there was no chickening out now, we're committed.
Its 6pm, the plane was getting ready for take off. The engines were firing up. After a few minutes the plane started to taxi out to the runway; "this wasn't so bad, it wasn't much different then riding in a taxi, what do we have to be nervous about"?
...oh, you think you're not nervous eh Joe, you know you're only fooling yourself; just wait a minute, you'll see just how nervous you really are.
The plane got to the runway and just sat there for a minute winding up the turbines. I could feel the engine vibration throughout my body; the plane started rolling down the runway rapidly gaining more and more speed, when all of a sudden it left the ground.
There was a strong g-force pushing me back into my seat; it made me suck in my breath.
As the plane gained altitude so did my stomach, I thought I was going to puke.
There were these two fresh air vents above my head just slightly ahead of my seat, I directed them straight onto my face; that was the only thing that kept me from getting sick. After a few minutes we reached cruising altitude and the plane leveled off;
,.....and its all going to be okay now. Holy shit, what a rush
Our first stop was Montreal. We were told it was going to be a very brief stop, but we would have time to go to the duty free shop to pick up a few things, like smokes, snacks and whatever else. With shopping done, its back to our seats and chill.
We left Montreal shortly after 7pm.
Just a few seconds or so after the plane left the ground it banked sharply to the left, which was my side of the plane, I'm looking out the window and thinking, 'holy shit; it looked like the wing is going to dig into the ground because we didn't appear to be high enough yet'.
But yeah, we were high enough and the wing didn't dig into the ground; yeah, still a bit nervous.
Next stop Lisbon. We settled in for the long ride...
Dinner was now being served. Beef tenderloin, veggies and wine with bread pudding for dessert; all no charge. Given that this was airplane food it a surprisingly good dinner.
Sometime later the lights were turned down and out came the blankets and pillows. We barley slept though, it wasn't the least bit comfortable.
Around 6 o'clock in the morning they woke us up for breakfast. Eve wasn't feeling well so she didn't eat.
At 7am we were coming in for a landing in Lisbon. Just as we began to loose altitude Eve started to get sick. She buried her face in a barf bag and she didn't let it go until we were on the ground.
This was only a pit stop to refuel so we couldn't leave the plane. We were there for about 30 minutes then off again, next stop, Madrid.
About an hour later we were approaching Madrid. As we were coming in for a landing Eve got sick again, and again her face was buried in a barf bag.
I didn't think anyone could puke as much as she did, we all felt really bad for her.
When we got into the terminal we were informed there would be a four and a half hour layover. We were all very tired from little or no sleep.
Our luggage was searched for guns, drugs and whatever, and we couldn't leave the terminal for some kind of security reason I think.
We found a bench for Eve so she could lay down and get some sleep and give her gut a rest from all the puking.
Aileen stayed with her while us guys took a walk around the terminal checking the place out.
We found a coffee shop, got some coffees and doughnuts for everyone and just hung out while we waited for our connecting flight.
The terminal was a very busy place, lots of people running here and there trying to make connecting flights. It was also full of police and soldiers.
It seemed that every third person was a cop or soldier, and we seemed to be the focus of their attention, didn't understand why.
Other than our scaly lizard tails and the antennas protruding from our foreheads, we didn't look different than anyone else; fuck man, it's not like we were aliens, we sure didn't like this much attention, it made us feel uncomfortable.
On the upside, no one was pointing a gun at us, just their stare; I guess we can live with that.
After Eve had rested for awhile her and I went for a walk around the terminal, bought some post cards and sent one off to the kids.
It was now time for the next leg of our flight. We boarded a Royal Air Maroc "fucking piece of shit plane"; a small jet that looked rather ill.
As the plane lifted off and started to climb, there was a rumbling of creaks, groans, rattles, bangs and snapping sounds; I swear that every nut, bolt and rivet in that sucker was loose...
Once we reached cruising altitude and leveled off, things with the plane settled down.
Now they began serving lunch, a horrible smelling fish plate, I don't think any of us ate this disgusting stink.
Approaching southern Spain we could now see Gibraltar, the Mediterranean Sea and the north coast of Africa. It was an awesome sight, what an incredible rush; holy fuck-WOW man, its Africa, the theorized birth place of the human race. Of course that theory depends on whether you're an evolutionist or creationist.
I had never seen anything so impressive, the first of many things to come. This was also our first daytime flying experience.
The only troubling thing was the plane. My thought was, "this fucking plane better not go down for any other reason than a landing", if it does, well... I'm just not ready to die; that was not part of the plan.
The plane pictured below is in much better shape than the one we were on. Our plane looked like it had the shit beat out of it many times over.
You couldn't find more than a few square feet of body surface anywhere that didn't have dents bangs and scrapes and what seemed like extreme ware and tear.
I was grateful that it was able to stay in the air.
Our next stop is Tangier.
I was sitting beside a Moroccan guy dressed in a suit, a typical business guy. He was quite nervous, and I mean really fucking nervous.
He was chain smoking these disgusting smelling "Black Tobac" cigarettes, he was also sweating bullets.
He would puff on his cigarette, look out the window and sweat, light another smoke, sweat some more, look out the window again etc.
He repeated this routine a number of times, he seemed more than just nervous, he appeared to be on the verge of freaking out, which has now made me quite nervous.
So now I'm thinking, is he just incredibly nervous or does he know something about this plane that we should all know. If that was the case, it may be better that we didn't know.
Like most people, when you're nervous about things you have no control over, your mind can play all kinds of psychological games with your thoughts.
So as a result, I gave thought to saying a few prayers if I could remember any, I should remember, I was a catholic kid at one time, oh well, if I wasn't too nervous to remember any, this would certainly be the right time to say a prayer; gotta cover my ass for any unexpected possibility.
Well, we made it to Tangier with no problem, I'm not quite sure if Eve got sick again as we were landing, but I'd say it was a safe bet that she was. We were only in Tangier for fifteen minutes, just long enough to discharge a few passengers, which included the "black tobac" guy, then it was back in the air again for the final leg of our flight.....
Next stop, Casablanca.
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