I am scared of flying. No, no I am sorry that would be the understatement of the century. I am petrified of flying. Anyone who has been unfortunate enough to be seated next to me on a plane will know what I mean- nails gripping for dear life into the armchair, uneasy breathing and eyes darting towards any slight movement – because obviously any slight movement means the plane is going down. The Malaysia Airlines flight disappearance has done wonders for my fear; my imagination likes to run even more wild now.
So you can imagine my delight when I learned that I was flying into Christchurch, in a cyclone. Yes, you heard it right, a cyclone. Freaking Cyclone Ita thought it would be a good idea to head from QLD to New Zealand. Thanks babe.
As the plane rocked from side to side, completely throttled by the wind, I clutched onto everything around me, crying irrationally- which is pretty embarrassing when you are not four years old. Did I mention that by this stage I had taken two Valiums. Not even my usual hero Valium was going to save me now.
Jolting erratically towards the Earth, the pilot decided landing was not going to be an option, and so he aborted landing and we took off again, mid-air. Yay.
By the time we finally hit the ground, on a slight angle might I add, I thought that I was going to A. pass out or B. throw up. I walked out of the airport as a zombie about 10 metres behind the rest of the family.
To be fair, I don’t think I will get a flight much worse than that… The fact that a Jetstar plane can land through the tail end of a cyclone does give me faith that I am not going to fall out of the sky on just any ordinary occasion.
I will leave you with some photos of the damage done by the 140km/h winds and pelting rain we flew into.