Routine Flight

The Anatomy of a Pilot

A teaspoon of quickie, a tablespoon of smooch, a dash of flirtation and a heaping tablespoon of leaving the moment she falls asleep....

Alarm bell rings 06.30

It didn't begin on an alarm clock going off... it started on a B747. My career began even before entering first grade, when my mother took me to New York. I saw passengers entering the aircraft, curious how business class and first class flight feels like. I felt excitement, every time I flew as a child. I brought this excitement with me well in to my adulthood, as I am now a pilot for years.

'Ugh,' I groaned softly after an eight hour sleep, and headed towards flying today across four time zones.

Years ago, it was dreading to wake up because of hang over... now it's because of jet lag. I gone out of bed, and prepared a cup of Nespresso included in my hotel mini bar wrapped in a bath robe.

Knock....

I checked the peephole, and opened the door. The woman I was flirting with yesterday came by but I don't know her name 'have a safe flight captain,' and she lightly bit my lower lip. It all began with a quick coffee run at the nearby Starbucks, we got chatting and as it turned out we stay in the same hotel. She was eager about aviation industry, and I must say she was pretty impressive. However, relationships... I pass on that. I smiled at her as she looked back while walking towards her room.

I started packing then lay down for a bit for a quick rest as I'm not needed at the airport for another five hours. I looked at the view outside my hotel room window.

It's a beautiful spring day in Incheon, days like this are great for flying minimal delay and smooth cruising unless weather systems along the way are as lovely. Nature is impassive, there's no guarantee.

It's been years already waking up at hotels by the airport that aren't exclusive to flight crew and pilots. These hotels are also great places for meet ups and hook ups, some raunchy local sole proprietor CEO from another nearby city: Dublin, Utrecht, Munich, New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and you name them with a good looking young gal. Seasoned expats either two international lawyers or a professional couple who had enough of national politics - two high flyers before going back to their usual foreign post.

Solo flight pilots for sure, when days can be unlucky.

Captain Ronald Hillaire

At my thirty thousand flight hours, life like this is business as usual. I go to the shower, brush my teeth, shave my facial hair, put on my ironed white shirt and matching jacket and trousers clip my pins and wings. I apply my Tom Ford tobacco oud, slide my wrist in to my Breitling, put my Ray Ban aviator sunglasses and pack my things in my Tumi suitcase.

I check out from my usual five-star Marriott after eating the usual continental breakfast in major cities and I don't drive cars... I get chauffeured around. I get to fly around with my favourite A350 to London, Abu Dhabi, Muscat, Hong Kong, Moscow, Amsterdam and it goes on - it's my baby, my wifey and my favourite kind of ride.

Though sometimes when grounded at the airport hub in Amsterdam, I stay in my apartment - a respectable bachelors pad.

'Good morning,' there goes my favourite first officer Gregory McFarland, my co-pilot, my wingman, my friend and my compadre in the sky, in the airport and in hotels.

'From the stash,' he handed me two protein bars, airline food is for beginners. 'Thanks officer,' I placed the protein bars in my Tumi carry-on.

'Clear skies today, I miss Honolulu,' Greg helped himself with some turkey sausage and spinach omelette.

'Heard from Tommy, ugh, big problems at Boeing factory. Al Jazeera exposed the rubbish unions that makes the Dreamliner a nightmare-liner.' It was an anticipated aircraft, a could have been better replacement for the antiquated 747.

'Jim's been training for it. It's only on isolated case won't give it a red flag.' He poured cream in his coffee, and glanced at a woman in a suit.

'Business travelers they're great, fun and no strings... met her at the hotel gym, works for the events department for Marriott covering the whole region.' It isn't unusual for Greg to talk about a night of fun, same as me. I checked my device before I took the chance to size her up, 'pretty hot,' giving the nod of approval.

She isn't my type, I like my women confident over timid and perky over skinny, and definitely tall.

Almost every pilot has a favourite airport and aircraft, for my home boy Tim it is Singapore Changi, for Greg it is Hong Kong, for me it's Doha. But today, I'm in Incheon International Airport... and many pilots love Airbus but ground engineers they love Boeing.

'When was the last time we flew together Greg?' You don't always get to fly with your best mate. Greg and I, had known each other at school - the man who refuels my fuel tank. We did many things together, setting aside rounds of drinks and dinners with ladies. We went to flight school and training together, worked private hours together and we both got on to a major commercial airline together. 

'A few aeronautical knots and a hundred flight hours ago,' wiping coffee from his lip.

'We better catch up on ground in our destination and in the cockpit.' I miss my wingman. 'For sure, Tommy had a baby recently but we were both in flight to see the little kid,' I was informed. 'Difficult to be tied down, it's like a nose dive for my sex life.' I finished off my breakfast. 'Couldn't agree more,' Greg checked is reliable time piece from Oris. 'Time to go,' we stood up, time is everything but delays happen: technical issues on the craft, air traffic, bad weather and logistics problem at the airport.

We took our suitcase, took our short walk to the airport and walked through it. Women check us out, and their husbands often check us out too to see what does he have that I don't, been a long time she looked at me that way. Tell you what buddy, it's the gear, the badge, the command of the fleet, the turning on buttons and the long, big and engineered craft I have that I operate.

'Salam alaykum Sadiq,' it is great to see old friends in the airport now flying jumbo jets of major Gulf airlines. 

'Alaykum salam,' Sadiq walked with us for a short while catching up quickly, before he reach to his hotel after landing at Incheon for a routine flight from Seoul to Abu Dhabi.

'Beautiful weather today, isn't it? Last time I was in Incheon, we had our delay for the unforgiving fog.' Sadiq signalled his co-pilot to go ahead as he will follow through. 

'Indeed reminds my last routine flight in Honolulu.' Greg knew Sadiq through our old job in Etihad. 'I just needed a forty eight hour layover, when you're in Abu Dhabi or anywhere near do give me a shout, inshallah.' Sadiq left as time is golder than gold for pilots alike.

Greg and I entered the craft earlier than actual passenger boarding, checking bolts and joints and the computer. The flight engineer arrived, checking the functionality of the A350.