As flights go this was an early departure, 6:55 was a bit of an unknown territory for me so I though I'd better get there in good time as I had no idea how busy it was going to be at that time in the morning, especially with the security scares the previous week and warnings to arrive early. Having woken up at 3:30 I was comfortably ready by the time the car arrived for me at 4 and was treated to a long, and not entirely uninteresting conversation about flying model aircraft. I arrived at a deserted T4 in a ridiculously quick 20 minutes and entered the terminal which was pretty quiet and not a single check-in desk was open and this is pretty much how it stayed for the next hour. I bought a coffee and wandered down to arrivals for a bit of a sniff around but my hopes of a decent breakfast were receding fast as I soon realised that I would have little time for anything as mundane as sausage and eggs.
Finally managed to check-in at about quarter to six but significantly could not get checked through to the second flight as it was El Al metal and this was a BA desk. I passed through security reasonably fast but by then I only had about 20 minutes before they would be boarding so decided not to rush breakfast and maybe get something in Brussels between flight (if only I knew then...). Wandered to gate 7a which I was pretty sure meant 'bus transfer' and my precognitive ability was confirmed as we were ushered down a zigzagging ramp to a waiting bus - tip here BAA, firemen's poles, they're quicker and much more interesting. So we do the bus tour of T4 gates and finally arrive at our A321 where I disembark with my fellow passengers and take my seat in 18F. We back away from the stand a few minutes early and being in the right place at the right time we have a short taxi and are airborne with 10 minutes. The flight is a relatively painless 45 minutes of reasonably cloudless flight and I bid a mental farewell to blighty as we pass over the white cliffs and restrain myself from belting out a chorus of 'They'll be bluebirds over....'. Anyway, despite my itinerary suggesting a sustinence free flight we are efficiently refreshed by BA finest who pass out ham rolls and drinks which I devour with uncouth haste and then adopt my best puppy dog eyes look to see if there's seconds in the offing - I think hell and icebergs had a better chance of getting hitched.
We descended into Brussels faster than John Prescotts car with a police escort and were at the gate a full 15 minutes ahead of schedule just before 9am local. OK now the fun begins I thought. First I checked the transfer signs 'A1-25' and 'B26-52' proclaimed two signs pointing in different directions, was my second flight on the board, eh no. OK I thought, no gate so I'll pass through immigration and do the landside route. Immigration and the Blue channel were a doddle - best thing about the EU really, from ther I escalated myself up to departures and checked the monitors for where to check-in (aisle 9 if you're that interested - and if you are then you really should get out more).
Now I had heard stories about El Al check in and can I just say they're all true...apart from the one about the goat and the rabbi, that's not at all true and it's only possible to milk the goat anyway. Their check-in area is different to all other check-in areas that I had ever seen. They have a small queue containing passengers who are not waiting to check-in, oh no, they are waiting to be questioned prior to checking in. The main area consists of little podiums where El Al security representatives question you for, in my case, about 20 minutes. Now I know the security issues and I am not at all complaining, indeed it would be hard to complain, firstly because they immediately tell you is that it is for the sake of your safety, and second of all because they never stop smiling and being friendly for the entire time (oh and thirdly beacuse I'm too scared). In terms of friendly security I was going to say that they were a cross between TSA and McDonalds employees, but no, these people were intelligent and really knew what they what they were doing. Not only was my particular interogator getting more information out of me than my wife, but I was actually enjoying talking to him. Suffice to say that by the time I was finally ready to check-in he probably knew more about me and my reasons for going to Israel than I did myself and, on the two or three occassions that I saw him over the next hour or so we exchanged glances and friendly smiles like old friends - this was security with a smile :-). Check-in itself was a breeze I think, but by then I was too intoxicated to notice and before I realised it I was boarding-carded up and heading back through security....again.
Security, round two. In El Al speak there is no such thing as checked-through baggage. All bags that are transferring from other flights must be verified by the passenger prior to getting into an El Al hold. So having presented myself at the El Al airside security post myself and other intrepid travellers are escorted downstairs, outside and taken into da da da daaaaa 'The Baggage Holding Room'. Here where we identify our baggage, open them and verify to yet more El Al security people that no-one has put anything in them - 'something bomb sized' is how one of them described what we looking for as if the average Joe on the Tarmac would know what the size of bomb was anyway. Having safely confirmed that are luggage was not only intact but still reasonably safe we were led back upstairs to actually get on the plane and do the normal travel stuff. I was beginning to wonder how my palty fare was managing to pay for all the security let alone the flight itself.
By now of course I was hopelessly late and one of the last passengers to board and my embarrasment at this was not helped by the fact that I was seated in 30F at the back corner of the 757. I binned my PC bag and apologised as the other two seated passengers unshackled themselves and stood up to let me past - I'm pretty certain the one in the centre sighed in dissapointment as I passed, but then again it could have wind. I sat down in time to watch my own bag float up the conveyor belt, strategically placed directly below my window, and into the hold beneath my seat and comforted myself that if anyone had tampered with it I would be the first to know.
After this the flight was almost an anti-climax, as indeed was the meal which almost defied description. I was told it was chicken and to be quite honest I needed to be told, when I thanked the stewardess she probably wondered what for. Having said that I was hungry and could have eaten a horse - especially if it was kosher, the chicken may have been dry but not as dry as my sense of humour and being game for a laugh I did the polite thing and cleaned my plate. The guy next to me, obviously still keen to get revenge on me taking his spare seat, managed to drop his fork on my trousers with resulting stain - Normally I would have suggested he step outside but that was not possible at that time so I fixed him with an icy stare instead, I think he got the message. I watched a little of the film, 'The Last Mitzi', on the overhead monitor, which I quite enjoyed although it was an unusual experience staring up at the ceiling for an hour or more, a little like being dead I would imagine. Eventually, drained by the early start, the security brain melt and the char-dried chicken I fell into a fitful sleep and dreamt about happy things instead.
I woke up about half an hour before arrival (it's a four and a half hour flight) and realised that I had just missed being handed a landing card but luckily mister butter fingers in the seat next to me, obviously racked with guilt for the trouser blemish, had acquired an additional one for me, at least I assumed that was why he had a spare, of course he may have been planning to sell it on ebay. The Israeli authorities had devised a wickedly devious mental challenge in the form of this arrival card which from left to right first asked you for departure details and then, almost as if they realised they had forgotten, asked you for your arrival details. Looking across to my left I noticed that my trouser staining travelling companion had failed the IQ test having declared that he was arriving from Tel Aviv and would be departing bound for Tel Aviv when he left. As the plane passed over the Israeli coast the captain announced the fact to the passengers and I almost had a lump in my throat.
So we landed... THANK GOD.... and I sat where I was as there seemed little point in doing anything else. let's face it, I was going to be last off the plane, indeed I almost asked if I could help with the cleaning since I'd be there anyway. I sat in my seat and watched as first the conveyor belt and then a luggage trolley arrived outside my window, my bag was the third out of the hold and I took pride in realising that for once my luggage would be in the baggage hall before I was. This was old-school baggage unloading as each bag was individually placed on the baggage trolley by the operative who obviously took great pride in his job finding just the right space for each case no matter how big or small. I must have watched him performing luggage Tetris for a good 10 minutes and he never missed a bag as they arrived the bottom of the belt. By this time the aisle was beginning to move, or at least the people it it were, and I was forced to tear myself away from this feat of manual decterity and actually get off the plane.
Immigration was pretty simple, although there was a fair queue, by this time I was a pro and a few simple questions by an immigration officer were no match to the grilling from El Al security staff, amateurs!! As expected my luggage was already there, looking somewhat lonely so I reclaimed it and marched off through customs and out to grab a taxi for the half hour ride into Tel Aviv. By a sheer fluke I must have found the taxi driver with the best English in Israel and I enjoyed a very entertaining conversation on the drive into the city, not about model airplanes this time though. So I arrived at the hotel at around 6pm local time (2 hours ahead of UK time) and collapsed on my bed. I had braved the early start, the security from hell and the kosher chicken of death, this may have not been my greatest adventure but then again marriage doesn't count, does it ;-)
Phil FM
Edited to correct El Al flight # prefix
