Flying makes me nervous. Not because I’m afraid of crashing, but because I’m deathly afraid of missing my flight. I always try to get to the airport abnormally early.
And for some reason, I had a bad feeling about my flight from Ho Chi Minh City to Sydney. I don’t know why. Maybe it was my cousins’ stories:
It started when I realized that the checked bag weight limit for Air Asia is 20 kg, or 44 pounds. That’s 6 pounds less than the 50 pounds I’m used to.
After I stuffed all my excess stuff into my carry-on, my family kindly dropped me off at the airport. I checked in:
I also had a small suitcase and a backpack, as those were complementary on my flight from America. However, apparently it wasn’t for this one.
Oh-my-god. That’s, like, a month’s rent. I didn’t have that kind of cash on me! What do I do?!
She directed me to the other side of the airport, where supposedly there were phones. I ran through the terminal…
I desperately asked a man at the currency exchange booth where the phones were. Perhaps sensing my panic, he lent me his own cell phone.
By some miracle, the phone had enough juice for me to place my call. I called my uncle– but, by this time, my Vietnamese had flown out the window.
Luckily, his son (my cousin) speaks English, so I was able to explain the situation more coherently. He told me to wait– they would drive back to the airport to get my bag. The drive takes 20 minutes, though, and by this time I only had an hour left before my flight.
I handed my cousin my Australian address and my bag, then sprinted off.
Of course, I still had to go through security.
I flat-out sprinted to my gate.
I arrived at my gate RIGHT before boarding… or so I thought.
I spent my 12-hour flight in a state of physical and mental exhaustion. Oh, Air Asia. How I look forward to riding with you again at the end of semester.
Though I did make it to Sydney in the end, where I probably made a great first impression.