Parents, please leave the kids! Giants, please fly buisiness!
I recently had the pleasure of travelling from the Faroe Islands to Melbourne, Australia. Me being a cheapskate, I obviously had to take the cheapest route, A.K.A. the longest route. I flew from Faroe Islands, to Copenhagen, to London, to Bangkok, to Sydney, to Melbourne.
The Copenhagen to London flight was a nightmare. There was a kid yelling at the top of his lungs the whole flight. After half an hour I had a good mind to step outside for a smoke, just so that I could de-stress. Nevermind that stepping outside would involve opening the emergency door and probably ending up taking a dip in the North Sea. Nevermind that I don't actually smoke. Parents, please leave the kids. They'll survive.
From London to Sydney I had the bad luck of being seated in front of a giant. I don't know why giants insist on flying coach, they clearly don't fit. For some reason, my excess baggage needs to be checked in. His excess body parts (i.e. knees) can stay. And they don't even have to go up into the overhead cabinet. Apparently they can stay deep down in my spine. The airline could care less. For me, this meant, I had two flights (a combined 20 hours) not being able to recline my seat, i.e. not being able to sleep. Please all giants, for the love of God, fly business.
Not the most pleasure full journey I must say.
