Flying, flying, flying

I’ve been to Rome this weekend. I used to fly a little more before my children’s bbirth, but since then I haven’t flyed for quite a few years. Train and car a lot. But no planes. I knew what I was going to face.

But the experience has been worse. To pass through the security line is something stressful and disgusting. Wait a long queue. Put all your belongings through the X-ray. Don’t forget the belt. Pass through the metal detector. Keep your boarding pass in your hands. Keep your hands up. Beeeeep. Please go back and pass again. Some of the people go through patdown. And you ask yourself “Will I make some mistake? Will I be questioned because I did anything wrong?”. And after everything is over you start to think what’s the point of all this when you see a person on your side with three shaving blades.

But this isn’t over. Wait, wait, wait. Your plane is delayed. Wait, wait, wait. You go in with a suitcase for two people. But then you see people with what it seems a non-standard suitcase, a laptop, and a garment bag (and a hat). You don’t know where to put your suitcase because everything is full. You manage to do it at the end, but you still have to wait the take off of several planes before yours.

That was departing from Madrid. But Rome wasn’t better. One hour delay for the plane, one hour delay because of the travelling weather. And half an hour to pick the bag, because I chose to checkin the suitcase.

When I travel by train (long distance, not commuting) I can come 15-30 minutes before the departure, maybe there’s some security, but no queues, and I’m pretty confident of when I’m going to arrive to my destination.