Janet and I had just spent a delightful vacation week in Krabi, Thailand with our friends Pete and Cathy. We had a great vacation but were ready to return home to the Philippines.
Now vacation is a bit of a misnomer because let’s face it – we’re on permanent vacation. Let’s call it a vacation from our vacation.
From Krabi we had a layover in Singapore before our flight to Cebu. I promised Janet a nice dinner because after all, the Singapore Airport had to be like the country itself – rich and modern.
The Krabi Airport was neither rich nor modern. We wanted lunch and there were two restaurants. One had almost nothing to sell and the other one was a Subway, which made me happier than Janet.
The gate area at Krabi Airport makes the average bus terminal look sophisticated. So much noise that it was impossible to determine what the announcements over the intercom were saying. Nonetheless we finally got on the plane and took off. The flight was a bit late, meaning that our 2 1/2 hour layover was down to 2 hours; still plenty of time for a meal and exploring the Singapore Airport, or so I thought.
Like most international transfers, we were forced to first go through a security search; no problem – we’re used to it. The airport, as expected, was beautiful and modern but signage was lacking and we could not figure out where our flight was. I had promised Janet that nice meal, as soon as we found our gate. It took me 10 minutes to find a modern machine which scanned my ticket and told me where the flight would be; Terminal 4. We followed the signs to Terminal 4; it was at least a 10 minute trek. Now we approached the turn leading to the terminal and two employees stopped us.
“You must go through Immigration before you can go to the gate,” one told me.
“Why? We’re not coming into the country – we’re just transferring flights.” He was adamant. “OK, where is immigration?” I asked. Let’s just say it wasn’t close by.
The line at immigration was long and we were still questioning why we have to go through Immigration at all. Janet asked an employee whether we have to go through Immigration and is told that no we don’t. We leave the line and go back toward the gate – another 10 minute trek. As we approach, the two men again stop us. For seven months in the Philippines I have managed not to lose my temper despite a 3rd world infrastructure. But here in beautiful, modern, 1st world Singapore I am losing it. “We were just told we didn’t have to go through Immigration! ”
“Yes, you do,” the guy said and handed us a sheet of instructions on what to do for an Air Asia flight. As we storm off heading back to Immigration, I heard him say, “We value your input.” The last thing he wants to hear is my input.
Back in the line at Immigration. It moved quicker than expected but now I am trying to figure out what time it is in Singapore and how long we have until the flight. I explained to the Immigration Officer that we were told that we had to go through Immigration. He looks at me like I am crazy, shrugs and starts to process me. “How long will you be staying in Singapore?” he asks. I know better than to lose it with an Immigration Officer but I did chuckle.
Back upstairs, passed our two friends and outside to get a bus to Terminal 4. We all crammed onto the bus, but hey it’s modern. Frankly by this point I’d rather be on a Jeepney in Manila. Another 10 minutes.
According to the instructions we were handed we had to go through Air Asia’s document control, despite the fact we already had our boarding passes. At least 10 minutes. Finally the lady says “You don’t have to be here. See it says on your boarding passes, ‘Go directly to the Gate.’ Apparently in Singapore their concept of going directly to the gate is different from mine.
To no surprise there was no way to go directly to the gate. You had to go through machines and scan your boarding pass. After scanning my pass the machine said “Go to Immigration.” Now I’m ready to lose it. I find a guard who looks at our boarding passes and lets us through.
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At least a 10 minute jog to the actual gate. We had made it but had blown all our time; no dinner for Janet; a muffin would have to suffice and a promise of whatever food was on the plane.
After boarding the plane and getting ready for the flight – suddenly the lights went off. No big deal; it had happened to me before, but Janet was scared. They came back on in a minute. No one seemed concerned that there was no announcement from the cockpit.
A few minutes later the lights went off again. Now we saw ground crew come on and enter the cockpit. Not a reassuring sign.
Again the lights come back on and we try to relax. But yet again the lights go out and this time stay out for about 10 minutes. Janet is worried and I am assuming that soon we will hear an announcement that the plane has a problem and we have to get off. Janet said that she was sure they had another plane for us. I told her that that was highly unlikely.
Surprisingly the flight attendant announced we would soon be departing. I was still waiting for an announcement of what occurred but it didn’t come. Janet went up and asked the flight attendant. He tells her something about the engine not powered and since there was no power the captain could not use the intercom and speak to us. Engine problems is not what you want to hear when you are about to take off.
People are nervous and a 30ish woman leans past her husband and asks me if this is “normal.” Apparently I look like a wise old world traveler, which I sort of am. “No,” I said. “Not normal in my experience.”
The flight attendant passes and I asked for an explanation. He said something like they were rebooting the system. Now as a former Software Engineer this should be reassuring but rebooting the engine did not sound so good to me.
Getting ready to taxi Janet asked me to pray. This did not sound like a bad idea to me. As a Buddhist, I chant – so that’s what I did, under my breath.
From that point onward the flight was uneventful. There were no meals to speak of but I wasn’t very hungry anyway.
For the last few days Janet has hugged me alot and proclaimed it was nice to be alive. Yep, it’s nice to be alive and even nicer not to be in the Singapore Airport!
