"That's all folks!"

As I said in a previous post, leaving an airline can be a fairly large non-event and this one was no different. I had my last flight without even realising it was my last! I was due to work this sunday and had booked a flight back to Scandinavia in preparation for it. However, the more I looked at the weekend the more I realised going back was a pointless exercise. Not only would it be with a crew I didn't know, ending once again in a lonely hotel room that was going to cost me £90 but the cheapest flight back to the UK that I could find was over £300. Now that would be a seriously expensive last flight!

Luckily for me I have been saved at the 11th hour and no longer have to go back to do the flight, I have saved myself the best part of £400 and have an extra few days that I wasn't expecting. I think it hasn't settled in yet that I have actually finished and no longer have to worry about flights back, hotels there or how on earth I drag my belongings around! The relief is already starting to set in and I can feel my shoulders relaxing at last. All I can think is "about time too!!".

Today S and I joined my parents and travelled north to see my brother get awarded his service medal for his tour in Afghanistan. It was a wonderful day and I was so proud of him and all his squadron, they really did put on a great show and the support for them all was immense. Half the town turned out to clap and cheer, let alone all the families. The sun stayed out for the parade and medal giving and it only started raining when the Spitfire started its fly-by. It was really nice to have S there as it is the first time he has been to one of my brothers military events and I felt it really cemented him into our family. He showed great respect for my brother too and I love him even more for that. It is armed forces day today and I can only imagine how many people are out celebrating with their loved ones, it was a fabulous day, but it does get you thinking about those who maybe weren't as lucky. My thoughts go out to those commemorating and not celebrating today, I hope never to be in your shoes.

So, in short, my Scandinavian life ends, my brother gets a medal and I get to start my month off a week early! All in all, a pretty great weekend!

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The Others

I wrote a little poem and wanted to share it, some of these guys really get on my nerves and no more so than on a long and tiring night flight. I know other pilots will get this and agree but I would like to point out that I am sure there are some exceptions to the rule, I just haven't found any yet!
I hope you like it, leave me a comment if you do!

AA

I'm forever telling people,
Who are bored enough to listen,
I'm a truly awesome pilot,
See my epaulettes glisten?

I can't say "cleared for take off",
But I'm always "good to go",
I shout over others,
On my aircraft's radio.

I stand tall in my uniform,
And push in front of you,
I'm an American Airlines pilot,
So I shouldn't have to queue.

I don't understand much,
Everything's repeated,
at the smallest sign of turbulence
I make everyone stay seated.

I'm totally deluded
And think I'm like a god,
I don't admit I don't know
Instead I wink and nod.

I believe that when they see me,
The ladies start a riot,
After all who wouldn't want me?
I'm an American Airlines pilot!

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The End

I thought it was about time for me to finish The Story. I am writing this onboard a flight that is 9 hours delayed, meaning that it is 3am and we have been in the air for only 33 minutes. It is going to be a long night to say the least and by writing this I might be able to re-capture the warm and fuzzy glow that surrounded me after my month at home. It has been slowly ebbing away and after being made homeless and now this, it is becoming a very faint memory.

After our friends hen and stag do's S and I had a get together of our own. Miraculously we managed to get both sides of the family to join in and had a splendidly British day out! The weather had been on and off but on this day the sun was out in our honour and it was the perfect excuse for the summer dresses to make an appearance. We all made our way to an old manor house in the New Forest and had afternoon tea on the lawn, it was by far the best tea I have ever had. Not only because we decided to accompany it with pink champagne but because the selection of cakes and sandwiches were simply perfect. On this occasion my low carb diet blew out of the car on the way there and I can't say I missed it much. What is the point of sticking rigidly to a plan if you can't enjoy life's moments because of it. My parents seemed more relaxed and happier than I have seen them in a while, my man's parents though divorced managed to be civil and enjoy themselves and even my brother, who is sometimes detached from family events, made a huge effort and joined in whole heartedly! It made my heart swell to take in the scene, our family all together sitting in glorious sunshine with beautiful surroundings and big beaming smiles on their faces. Stunning.

After tea we rounded off the day with a game of croquet, my brother did a sterling job of being 'games master' despite the jeers when an extra rule was found that hadn't been mentioned. I have to say that playing croquet in a long floaty dress is not the easiest thing and the ladies all came up with their own solution. My man's sister let the dress hang and swung delicate shots, while I decided to get outside help and have my man hold my skirt while I took a shot. On one occasion he wasn't there in time and as I went to hoist up my dress I somehow managed to hit myself in the face with the croquet mallet.... hilarious laughter from the rest of the family until I found I had actually cut my lip and gum and was tasting blood for a while afterwards. The lip swelling the next day gave me a pout that even Angelina Jolie would appreciate!

After already having 3 weeks at home there was none of the initial awkwardness with S that so often happens on my return. While in Scandinavia I put a barrier on my feelings and it takes a few days for him to break it down and for us to get back to well, us!

It was such a perfect day that it has definitely become my "happy place" and I can't help but smile when I think about it.

After a couple of days of blissful nothing, spent lounging in the sunshine, eating too much and ignoring the rest of the world, it was time to get back to reality. It was packing time! The Pickfords men arrived and it wasn't long before our house became a bungalow as the top floor disappeared into bubble wrap and boxes. We had to run around in front of them cleaning objects before they were packed, a concept that seemed a little lost on S but having explained that the oil covered container or dust covered box would stay that way until it was unpacked and who knows when that will be, he cottoned on pretty fast. We also had to take out anything that customs wouldn't like, bibles, home made CD's or DVD's, Christmas decorations, DVD's with dodgy titles or themes (Dogma was a definite no!!) and the same for books. Amazingly you are not even allowed to take playing cards! I have a collection of cards from different countries and airlines and was fairly amused by them being classed under "gambling" and therefore banned! We then had to run around after them cleaning the house until the Hoover was the only thing left to pack.

After they left (and after that delightful text I told you about last time) we noticed on the inventory that they had marked a few of our belongings as 'scratched'. One was our wooden dining room table and I knew for certain it was in pristine condition, I waxed it the day before and S had dismantled the legs the morning the packers arrived, we knew every inch of that table and it is like new. Unfortunately even after arguing with the packers we had very little option of what to do, yes we could get them to open the packing and send us pictures of the "scratches" but nothing would stop them scratching it themselves in order to cover their backsides. In the end I would rather know that it was packed in perfect condition and hope that it arrives that way too.

With our house empty it finally hit me that we are going. This is real. The adventure starts now. Boy is that scary!!

We stayed the night at a friends and I travelled back to Scandinavia the next day. It was the hardest thing to do and after a month with S and my family and all the exciting and wonderful things going on it was heart wrenching to leave. I felt physically sick on the drive to the airport, my stomach was in knots and my emotions were barely contained. Obviously the wall I usually put up had failed to appear and the shock to the system was profound. It was horrible. I am no writer and I cannot put into words how distraught I was. Not only leaving, but knowing what I was going into once I arrived. A confrontation with the 'friend' who threw me out, a month of different hotels while dragging all my belongings with me, and no reassuring hugs from S. I cried as soon as I turned my back on his car and I didn't stop until well after I had landed at the other end. I was shocked at the strength of my reaction but I wonder now if I wasn't just crying for this time but for all the times my inner wall has blocked me feeling it for the last 10 months. As you can imagine, it knocked a fair amount of the warm and fuzzy straight off!

Apart from the end it was the best 4 weeks I have had in over a year and it made me look forward to what comes next. Once this flight is done (which will be at midday!!!) I have a few days home before I return for my last and final flight on a B737. As I said in a previous post, leaving an airline job is very different to leaving an office job and true to form this will be no different. It's out of a strange airport, with a crew I have never met and lands at 4am. After that I just slope off into our future and much like the crew for that flight, I doubt I will even glance back.

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A brief interlude..

To talk about the complex and baffling relationship we have with "friends".

As you know, in my new city a friend very kindly offered to put me up while I was here, he knew I had been offered the job in the middle east and knew it wouldn't be too long before I handed my notice in and said goodbye to Scandanavia for good. I was hugely grateful and looking forward to having some company and a few nights out on the town, and after 9 months of solitary confinement it was a welcome change.

I stayed with him for ten days, while he was in the UK doing some training and gave him a "rent" payment that I thought was fair for two months of sharing. I then had a fabulous FOUR weeks off back in the UK, during which the tea, croquet, polo and packers that I mentioned last time all made an appearance. I promise I will finish that tale soon! It was two days before I was due to fly back to Scandanavia, knee deep in packing boxes with fraying patience that I received a text from said friend.. "Im afraid I can't put you up for June, I need you out by the day after you fly back."

I was shocked to say the least. As box by box I became homeless in the UK, in one text I had become homeless worldwide. So, I have no money, no house, no belongingings and am writing this from a dubiously decorated hotel room in the middle of no where. My lonely living in the last city seems rather rosy from here. I had been so looking forward to having a partner in crime, someone to talk to, someone to celebrate my last month with that now the silence is deafening and the lack of contact more acute.

It has made me examine my friendships rather closely. I thought he was dependable, and having gone out of our way for his girlfriend previously, S and I were more than a little disappointed in his behaviour. So in a time when my Facebook friends add up to hundreds, can I even count on those I would place in my "inner circle"?

I have a very select few people I would class as close friends, and over the last few months I have been forced to be a little dubious about even those. What makes someone a friend instead of an acquaintance? Even though I am rubbish at keeping in touch with my friends, I would like to think that they would know that I would move heaven and earth if they needed me too. I have always stepped up when a friends has needed me, I've driven through the night to get to a sobbing friend, I've bought a plane ticket for a stranded one, I've stayed awake all night to watch over a drunk few, and most memorably, I've been at work, driven 4 hours to be at a funeral with a friend then driven 4 hours back to go to work and done the same again the next day to comfort them. To this day, I don't believe that person knows that I didn't have the days off. This is not me trying to get a pat on the back, I've forgotten birthdays, been lousy at remembering partners names or who the recent break up was with, some times I can't even tell you what my friends do for a living, but would I throw a friend out on the street in a strange country with two days notice? Hell no. The only time I've ever thrown anyone out was when they threw a glass at my head and even then I made sure they had somewhere else to go!

The last 10 months have certainly shown me what to expect when we move to the Middle East. One of my friends contacts me almost daily, one of them tries every fortnight or so and a handful send me a text or message on Facebook about as often as you should visit the dentist. So remind me again who my 200 odd "friends" are on Facebook?!

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Race to the finish

Well, this is it. The final stint in Scandanavia. In 18 days time I will be flying back to the UK for the last time. I literally cannot wait. It has been a long, lonely and heart-breaking 10 months and now that the end is in sight it is even harder to be back here.

Let me catch you up on the last few weeks as lots has happened and as with any story it is always better to start at the beginning!
After S's birthday we were separated again as he had to go back to work and I had various appointments that kept me away. He flew his last flight with his current company and although he said he was happy to be finished, I know that the years there and the people have meant a lot to him and I was so delighted that the crew joined him in a little party afterwards in the crew room. I know what it is like to leave a company you love, there is no fanfare, no big farewell and you may not even fly with someone you know! Your last flight finishes and you slip away without leaving so much as a ripple on the surface.

Now that he has finished, S has nearly two months off before he departs for the desert and once I finish here, I will have July off with him. It is going to be like suddenly being allowed to eat chocolate after lent. A whole month together!!! I know it will be strange at first but I am so looking forward to getting back into our routines and being a proper couple again.

A few weekends ago we had a stag/hen weekend with our friends who are due to get married in July, the boys went off to Dublin for a weekend of golf, gambling and guiness and the girls stayed closer to home with a night of Greek plate smashing and improper waiters. Unfortunately the weekend started badly, I won't bore you with the details but the short story is that some of the boys decided the stag do started a night early and completely disregarding the couples pre-made plans, launched a fairly abusive attack on the hen until she had no choice but to back down and cancel so that the stags so-called friends could lead him on a wild goose chase that left him stranded on his own in a city. They didn't follow him or take pictures and they never planned to be there at the end, to me it sounded like the most idiotic and childish thing to do, especially as the stag specifically asked not to end up alone. So why would anyone think it was funny to do something to a friend that you know full well he hates? Not only that but how dare they be so rude to the hen. I made my feelings about it very clear and have already said that if the same happened next year at S's stag the "friends" would no longer be welcome at the wedding. Why should they come and celebrate two people deciding to spend their lives together if they clearly have so little respect for one half of the couple?

The hen do was eventful in itself, I don't believe you can put 28 women together and there not be issues. One of the reasons I have always been much happier to have male friends! By the time a fight broke out behind us in a club and someone pulled out a knife, I decided it was time for the hen and I to go home! I would struggle to find 28 people to invite to a hen let alone that many female's so I don't see me having the same problems she did. You have to love an alcohol induced sob fest at the end of the night though..

So that would wrap up the first week or so nicely which is where I will stop for now, I'll tell you about the afternoon tea, croquet and the dreaded packers in my next update. Imagine a BBC presenter's voice and "stay tuned"!!

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