Go!

The huge psychological relief of looking out of the aircraft window on the Bangkok airport taxiway and seeing the next landing aircraft with the dark green tail, the familiar logo of a palm tree and crossed swords, was one of those moments in life, when miracles do happen for insignificant people like me. Someone had looked after my family and me. Especially since I had been so foolish.

It was an ambitious plan, and not without its obvious risks.

The logistical problem can only be summarized as follows.

A family spread out in different parts of the world, with a limited time opportunity window for a vacation in Thailand.

The annual school breaks are milestones for a family with school children and become the yardstick to plan the entire year around. The older the child the more important these dates in the calendar become. Taking children out of school for holidays during examination preparation periods is tantamount to education treason, only just avoiding criminal punishment.

The more children, especially with differing ages, add even more complexity.

The addition of work travel commitments, and children studying abroad, the complexity starts to accelerate upwards like a high velocity gradient on a joyous increasing sales projection graph.

The Rubix cube conundrum was how to get children, some of them unaccompanied minors, from places like New York, Glasgow, Zurich and Jeddah, and herd everybody to a final destination of Bangkok, Thailand. All within a short window, a twenty-four-hour period with multiple connections.

I studied timetables for weeks. It was the eighties, Apple, Google, and Microsoft were still struggling to invent solutions for these types of complexities, and therefore, I was forced to use pre-digital technology such as pen, paper, and global flight timetables, which resembled old telephone directories like the yellow pages.

Some people will ask the question; what are yellow pages?

Answer: The reason most people over sixty years old wear glasses for reading.

After many hours of studying these heavy and weighty tomes – global flight timetables, I dissolved the optimal flight itineraries into two strands, or two final launch procedures. Launch one from Amsterdam to Bangkok carrying two members of the dysfunctional separated family and launch two from Jeddah to Bangkok carrying five members of the dysfunctional family: the rest.

New York to Jeddah was a subordinate thread, for one son to join the other four in Jeddah, and the final leg from Jeddah to Bangkok. Subordinate flights from Zurich to Amsterdam, and Glasgow to Amsterdam were required before the final leg from Amsterdam to Bangkok, and finally both these flights would arrive within 10 minutes of each other around dawn the next day in Bangkok, Thailand.

That was the plan, now would it work?

In this great epic of journeys, like any great production, there was the need for a supporting cast to the main characters, friends and family that remained on the ground, but were essential to the success or failure of the premier, making sure the main cast didn’t miss their flights.

The first move in this Chinese puzzle was New York to Jeddah, and that was accomplished early.

The following move was the day prior to Bangkok early morning arrival, many hours prior. The only flight from Zurich to Amsterdam was very early, but I don’t like short connections, I prefer a relaxing if not a boring wait at the airport, than a frantic sprint between gates. When I arrived at Amsterdam the first unexpected event occurred. There was a football match that night in Stockholm between Holland and Scotland, and Amsterdam airport was mobbed with rowdy Dutch football supporters, and more than the average number of flight departures.

Fortunately, by the afternoon Amsterdam airport had returned to a normal pace. I can’t ever describe an airport as peaceful. Normal pace is apt. My son was due to arrive in Amsterdam from Glasgow and based on the telephone call from supporting relatives he was safely on board, and yet another leg, another move of the Chinese puzzle accomplished.

I met him at the gate on arrival. Then we both checked into the flight from Amsterdam to Bangkok, all going smoothly so far. The flight from Amsterdam to Bangkok would leave hours before the flight from Jeddah to Bangkok, and that part of the puzzle would all take place while my son and I were in the air bound for Thailand.

In this logistical Chinese puzzle of flights and connecting flights, I haven’t added one- or two-character subplots into this epic drama. The leading lady was a terrible flyer. Scared of flying. She preferred air travel with me, for the sole reason I traveled so much, and she thought I was a lucky omen, like a lucky human charm. Add the stress of young children, and a small toddler to the launch leg from Jeddah to Bangkok, I thought this was the risky part of the Chinese puzzle. I wouldn’t realize if that part was a success or failure until we all met up inside the Bangkok airport terminal.

The sight of the green tail with the palm tree and cross swords on the landing Bangkok runway was a presumptive sigh of relief, with the assumption that the rest of the family were safely seated on board.

In the final analysis of the operative moves of this complex Chinese puzzle, the epic production and all the numerous supporting and main characters in the performance; there was one single event that very nearly sabotaged the entire production.

I have to confess it was self-inflicted, and it came very close to my son and I; to miss the flight from Amsterdam to Bangkok.

Schiphol airport is large, and the distance between gates is of marathon distance proportions. The distance between the main concourse and the gates is a mini marathon run.

We decided to watch the football match between Holland and Scotland which was being televised widely in the main concourse and miscalculated the distance and time to the gate. I could hear our names being called out, as we dashed along everlasting corridors towards the boarding gate.

The reception when we arrived at the empty gate was colder than a Siberian winter, and the boarding gate chief was ready for us. Well prepared and knowing that we were late due to the fact we had been watching the football match on TV. She was livid, and her face was an indignant shade of crimson. Holding herself tall like an aggrieved Titan, or a school mistress who has just caught two naughty schoolboys red-handed.

Without even the chance to offer an excuse, she said in her loud haughty voice “Your bags are being offloaded!”

This was the moment when my life flashed in front of me, new scenes were being rewritten for this epic production. Such as how do I tell my wife the truth about missing the flight?

I begged; I pleaded. The woman grew inches taller, every time I came close to tears. In hindsight, she wanted to teach me a lesson, probably she didn’t care too much about sports, especially football, and abhorred those rowdy Orangers. The living nightmare receded, as she finally let us pass, and board the flight. My heart and perspiration level didn’t regain normal levels until after the first Gin and Tonic!

It’s a great feeling when a plan comes together. Go for bust!