Tuesday, February 5, 2013
We all have our childhood dreams. Some of my colleagues have dreamed of flying since they learned to walk, while others have certain places they have always wanted to see. Ever since I first saw pictures as a girl of wintry, enchanted Moscow, this city has been an obsession of the head and heart. No wonder, then, that I particularly like flights to Moscow, especially if a nightstop is involved.
Not all crew members are as fond of Moscow as I am. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I have not been flying for very long. I haven’t experienced the old crew hotels, which were more modest as the one we stay at now; nor was I around when Moscow was far from the pulsating city it has become in recent years. Passengers on these flights are considered to be reserved. Nevertheless, I have had some heart-warming experiences with them. Because some customers often fly the same routes and I submit requests for duty on rotations to Moscow, I often encounter familiar passengers. For example, there is a businessman from Biel who was delighted to see me working on board a homebound flight from Moscow – shortly after I had been one of the crew members on his outbound flight.
Another example is a young man who I thought I recognised on a flight to Hamburg because I was sure I had served him on a flight from Moscow to Zurich on the morning of the same day.. When I asked him, he confirmed that he had flown with me to Zurich but that this was already a week ago. In addition to the destinations we see, these personal encounters with other people are an essential part of making flying a very special line of work!
Flights to Moscow also have their drawbacks. Some passengers on these flights speak limited English, which can be the source of misunderstandings. I also find the city difficult to navigate because of the Cyrillic alphabet. The country is very cold during the winter and my baggage lacks the capacity for enough warm clothing. But these difficulties are merely trivial when compared to my childhood dream. The fact is that the city’s golden “onion” domes fascinate me anew every time I see them.
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