It's 9am in the morning. It is already 25 degrees in Perth. The first parrots began to sing at 5am this morning. Even though we are right in the heart of the city, we hear only the noise of the Australian Raven and their cry that sounds like a troubled cat. The sun begins to timidly appear between two evaporating clouds and we are about to spend another day sleepy under a hot sun.
(How is that for an elegant narration that I promised on Facebook, eh? (note that promise on Facebook ... (yes, I open a lot of parentheses, but I like parenthesis, his style is both round and incomplete, his ... (yes, ok, I’ll stop!))) ... damn, still missing one).
That said, all I wanted to do was tell you about the ordeal of our new transatlantic crossing...
Tuesday, January 31, 5 pm. Matt's parents drive away in their truck (or are we walking away?). They just dropped us off at the station. In 45 minutes we will be at the airport.
17h45. Here we are ... at the domestic terminal! Unexpected delay, forgetful people that we are. We jump into the first shuttle that we cross to finally find ourselves in the right place.
19h45. We take off from Atlanta to Doha, Qatar. After a pleasant 13 hours flight (counting a relaxant and the right hand of Matt exploded by my two hands during the few turbulences that took place), we landed for a stop of 2h15.
19h35 (local time, try to follow!). Take-off, again with Qatar Airlines, direction Malaysia and Kuala Lumpur airport. 7 hours of flight, 4 hours of nightmare and panic start on the plane. Turbulence? No, too easy. A UFO ? Too far-fetched. A sudden freezing of the wings with explosion of the atmospheric pressures and hints of end of the world? There, there... Worse than that!!!
Take a Muslim man in a traditional Jordanian outfit who, after 2h30 of flight, takes advantage of the beverage distribution and the air hostess's turned back to quietly fill a glass of Beefeater (London Gin, what else?) and put it back in its place. Take the same man who, half an hour later, when the carriage returns, repeats the same move.
Add to this the flight attendant who catches him red-handed, calls another flight attendant and sprinkle on all of the accusatory glances from all the other passengers and you get an explosive cocktail for a colorful flight.
The first half hour of this upheaval was very stressful. It's very stupid to say, but you're in the air with a Muslim losing it, no one on the plane knew how it was going to turn out, and everyone thought, if only for a few Minutes "disaster at 10000 meters of altitude". Especially when the man started to insult the flight attendants who spoke to him in English: "Stop speak English! Stop speak English! Fuck you! Fuck English! Racist, fuck you racist and fuck Trump! ".
There, I tightened the bum... The immediate neighbors of the passenger had to leave their place, the latter spitting on everyone. From small spits to big loogies, the tension is quickly mounted. A Muslim woman wanted to punch him in the face, two men tried to hit him also.
I have to take my hat off to the staff who have shown themselves to be extremely calm, dignified, even showered with alcoholic saliva, even when the time came when they had to handcuff him hands and feet and then tie him to his seat with seat belts and muscles.
Literally tied up, the madman continued to scream, cry, laugh, insult, spit ... 3 hours of hell. 3 hours during which two flight attendants stretched two towels around him and held them up to contain most of the spit (he was gifted the madman, and managed to make a shot that fell on the Englishman's head behind us, on the forearm of the Qatari and on Matt's hand! Insane, but gifted!).
The affair did not end there. We welcomed in our neighboring seat a refugee of the spit who did not hesitate to tell the madman how much he was a shame for the other Muslims (add to this other Muslim passengers telling him that he played the terrorists game and that "He should apologize to the patrons,” and you have the atmosphere when landing).
Our new neighbor, super nice but who could not hold back a hiccough as soon as the plane had put its wheels on the tarmac. A hiccough, what am I saying...an eruption! Matt had not been able to open the first barf bag in time, he had vomited in his hands (the passenger’s own hands, not Matt’s!), on the floor and on the seat. Ending with three full bags... What else to distract our attention and the nasal passages!
Our ordeal was not quite over. We could not escape the olfactory hell right away. It was not until the Malaysian policemen got on the plane and removed the threatening man under applause that we finally got out of here ... And ... that ... took ... time.
ANYWAYS! From then on, everything was simple.
7h45 (always local time). We are finally in Kuala Lumpur. We have 16h ahead of us to visit the city, discover the Batu Caves, explore the towers. So of course, we stayed in the airport, comatizing like two big slugs where we could, sometimes lifting our heavy butt’s to eat a bit or go to the toilet.
23h35. We take off to Perth with AirAsia X. Low-cost, of course, but one of the vicious ones. The one where you pay for your tablet to watch a movie. The kind you pay for a blanket (only with credit cards) that they recover at the end of the flight. The one where they put the A/C DOWN all the flight, so that you shiver and that if you have no other hot clothes, you freeze! (And who, between Malaysia and Perth, in February, will bring a fleece? US certainly! But otherwise you pay your cover!)
5h35. The tarmac, a rising sun, a past security, or two. Perth, we're finally here!
We walk with our 18kg to our AirBnB. We put our things. We walk under the sun of death to WestPac where we open our bank account, we buy a sim card, we FINALLY eat lunch.
We discover different sounds (thanks to the Australian Raven and parrots!), Different odors (the eucalyptus trees throw their perfumed scents in all directions and nicely titillate our nostrils).
We see a lot of USA in the little we discover from Perth. But the air smells sweeter, the vegetation is luxuriant, the fauna interests us already ...
It is 16h3. We are back in our AirBnB. We will not wake up until 15 hours later.
Good Mornight, it was our first day in Australia!