Party Time
Are all Easyjet flights like this? Is it the Brits? Or is it just our destination that has set people behaving in this way?
After a rather uneventful journey over the Atlantic Ocean, I'm now approaching my final destination of Ibiza. I have just awoken a brief slumber after my airplane hit a pocket of severe turbulence. It wasn't the turbulence that disrupted my rest, rather, that, when the plane dropped a few feet very suddenly, it launched the tumbler of rose wine belonging the lady in the seat behind me into the air and then onto my head, soaking me with the smelly pink liquid.
The rush seating process for this flight, it turns out, has put me in the epicentre of an about-to-get-out-of-control-seated-airplane-party. How could I have known when I picked this seat next to a pair of sweet looking, could-be-choir-boys that I would wake up to find them shirtless, drunk and hitting on some girls about five rows ahead of us?
Beer cans and plastic cups strewn in the aisle. Tramped up lady-gaga-wannabees wearing more cosmetics and less clothing than vegas show girls. Roudy boys with tacky tribal tattoos, too-tight tshirts and rhinestoned sunglasses. Shouting, laughing, and spontaneous group singing. And, cheap wine dripping from my hair to add the extra dimension of smell to this experience.
It is a caricature of a frat party and I'm just trying to catch some winks on an air plane. Perhaps this is not a fair snapshot of the people as a whole; however, I might be developing an allergy to the British. Don't get me wrong, I likes to have a good time; indeed, this is what has brought me here in the first place. I just really hope that these kids aren't headed to the same hotel as I am.
Counting down the minutes now until my Ibiza INSEAD reunion!
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
After a rather uneventful journey over the Atlantic Ocean, I'm now approaching my final destination of Ibiza. I have just awoken a brief slumber after my airplane hit a pocket of severe turbulence. It wasn't the turbulence that disrupted my rest, rather, that, when the plane dropped a few feet very suddenly, it launched the tumbler of rose wine belonging the lady in the seat behind me into the air and then onto my head, soaking me with the smelly pink liquid.
The rush seating process for this flight, it turns out, has put me in the epicentre of an about-to-get-out-of-control-seated-airplane-party. How could I have known when I picked this seat next to a pair of sweet looking, could-be-choir-boys that I would wake up to find them shirtless, drunk and hitting on some girls about five rows ahead of us?
Beer cans and plastic cups strewn in the aisle. Tramped up lady-gaga-wannabees wearing more cosmetics and less clothing than vegas show girls. Roudy boys with tacky tribal tattoos, too-tight tshirts and rhinestoned sunglasses. Shouting, laughing, and spontaneous group singing. And, cheap wine dripping from my hair to add the extra dimension of smell to this experience.
It is a caricature of a frat party and I'm just trying to catch some winks on an air plane. Perhaps this is not a fair snapshot of the people as a whole; however, I might be developing an allergy to the British. Don't get me wrong, I likes to have a good time; indeed, this is what has brought me here in the first place. I just really hope that these kids aren't headed to the same hotel as I am.
Counting down the minutes now until my Ibiza INSEAD reunion!
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
posted by tori at
11:28 AM
2 Comments:
Welcome to the English drinking classes going to Ibiza party island. They won't be sober again until they get home.
Unfortunately, it is a combo of Ibiza and Easyjet. I had the privilege nine years ago to be on a flight from Toronto to Madrid with a tour/party group heading to Ibiza. Your flight discription matches our flight very closely, minus the rush seating as it was an Air Canada flight. We had to endure the Gaga-wantabees (pre-Gaga) for an overnight flight..F-U-N!
Enjoy the beach and sun.
Cristina
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