Two days off provide much necessary rest after my unexpected week in Southeast Asia. A time to catch up with some friends, lunches at Nando’s and afternoon indulgences on homemade cookies.

After mostly operating long and rewarding layovers, combined with only a few short intra-Gulf turnarounds, I brace myself for my first proper turnarounds in my short cabin crew life. Trolley only. No suitcase.

Our flight to Athens is just at the last stretch of a turnaround duty, with a flying time of almost four hours on each direction. The outbound flight is rather uneventful, serving a late lunch over the dull sandy landscape of Saudi Arabia and a coffee over the Lebanese coast.
On final descent, I cannot help but wonder about the islands dotting the calm waters of the Ionian Sea below, whilst in Athens, the sun-kissed Mediterranean air enters our aircraft in drafts of mild envy.

     ‘Back to my reality: checks here, checks there and passengers boarding again. We leave the Mediterranean Sea behind and enter the dusty Arabian night.
The return flight was even more quiet since passengers were sleeping. We had a couple of honeymooners which catering provided a ‘wedding cake’ with. Uplifting, since they wanted to take pictures with it and the crew.’

Upon landing, I fall asleep on the crew bus. A total duty time of almost twelve hours, yet no flashy layover at the other end, only the lights of Doha deserted at midnight.

Twelve hours later, the temperature reaches forty eight degrees Celsius at the same time as a sand storm turns the air almost too poisonous to breathe, proving our airport facilities deficient.
Passengers board the flight to Cairo in a terrible mood, the brown-coloured sweat dripping through their wrinkled foreheads.

Hand luggage is almost uncontrollable and duty free bags at times seem unable to survive the weight of over sized carry-ons. The passengers are upset and complain to me in accusative tones of pure aircraft design frustration.

     ‘After what I would call the hardest boarding so far -I was sweating like hell when I finally got to fit all that luggage in the overhead bins- we departed amidst heavy crosswinds and dust storms.
I wish I could say that flight went well after that. Passengers were awfully demanding and they wanted to eat me alive when I shyly said:

– ‘Sorry Sir, I have no more lamb, would you like some chicken instead?’
– ‘Why catering , Why?’

The silhouette of the Suez Canal against an orange sunset guides our final descent path into Cairo International Airport, the aircraft finally landing at night in the Egyptian capital.

With only an hour to turnaround the aircraft, the cleaners sweep through the aisle in record time and shortly before I notice, the Airbus 320 taxies out of the terminal and embark upon its return leg to Doha.
Mostly asleep, the quietness of the cabin help in soothing the effects of a horrible outbound sector. Laughs are had with a Nigerian football team, which finishes our whole stock of sweets, meals and beverages at once.

On arrival and whilst doing our security checks, we give each other some proud pats in the back. Like we like to say: ‘Not only of layovers the crew live, sometimes we get the crappy ones’.

Kathmandu in a few hours.