Friday, late afternoon. I have spent most of the week in Rome for the Prix Italia and plenty of EBU side meetings. The weather was just great (28 degrees and sunny) and the food … too Italian. I was looking forward to head to Brussels to catch up with friends and family. I arrived just in time at the gate to board. Looked like 300 people where all packed around the gate to Brussels. At the gate control my ticket gave a red alert. “This is the gate to Catania”, a handsome Italian steward told me. Indeed, I was a the wrong gate. I literally had to move eight meters to the right to be in the queue to Brussels. Another eight meters to the right was the queue to Geneva.
Flights are me-time to read so on this one and a half hour flight I had time to catch up on some reports. As is always the case just before the descend the cockpit gives an update. “Dear ladies and gentlemen, were are now preparing our landing to Brussels, we expect to arrive in 25 minutes”. Suddenly the young Italian woman just in front of me, who had been so kind to pick up the toys of the young boy that was throwing them backwards time after time panicked. “Brussels ? Brussels ! That must be a joke” but people around her confirmed, they were all traveling to Brussels. “Non e possibile”, she scanned at least a hundred times.
She didn’t understand. She was heading to Geneva and at the gate control she was allowed to board. Frankly, I don’t understand either. Staff on board was very helpful and reassured her while she was walking up and down the aile, in panic. I don’t travel Alitalia a lot and I wondered if this could have happened with Lufthansa, the Germans.
Just before we touched the ground, I thought by myself that this would be great data to write a blog. And then we touched the Brussels ground and the door of the cockpit flies open.
“Alitalia, non e possibile !!”, I thought by myself.
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