written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Saturday, 6 November 2021

Plane Terror

Just to disambiguate that title, for starters: my  terror  is not of planes themselves, nor of flying in them (in fact I love air travel), but of being too late for the flight in the first place - something which has never yet happened despite my several hundred journeys by air over half a century on business or holiday trips.

That hasn't stopped it from being the drama of my worst and most frequent dream/nightmare, and the only thing guaranteed to wake me up in a cold sweat. The scenarios vary but the outcome is always terrifyingly the same. A plane is leaving without me. I was supposed to be on it - and for whatever reason, I'm not.
 
leaving without me...
It's pretty tame fare, I know, compared to people who suffer from life-inhibiting phobias, repeated physical or emotional abuse, political, religious or cultural persecution, financial worries or destitution - but I can only write in 'confessional' mode (as opposed to fiction) about what I know, about my plane terror. 

There's the driving variant. Sometimes I dream that I'm stuck in stationary or slow-moving traffic on a motorway, miles from the airport, no chance of getting there in time. I've witnessed the angst of people arriving too late at check-in because that has happened to them and it's not pleasant. At others I take a wrong turning, get lost, there are no road-signs or directions to the airport, no clue as to where it might be until a plane thunders overhead and I know it's my flight winging away.

There's the forgotten documentation version. In this one I manage to arrive on time at the airport but minus passport and/or tickets for the flight. Again I've seen the distress this causes. "I thought you had the passports." "No, I thought you brought them."  Amazing but true. And unless you're VERY famous (Paul McCartney allegedly was once let through without one), there's nothing to be done but to turn round and go home.

There's the wrong day script. "Mr Rowland your ticket is for a flight that left yesterday" or "Sorry sir, this ticket is valid for tomorrow's flight", the latter less taxing than the former, obviously. From all of my years sitting in departure lounges, I've seen both of these happen at least once.

Finally there's the 'Oh my God is it today?' frightener. This, for some reason, is the most popular. In this dream I wake up late, realise that I should be at the airport imminently but haven't showered, packed, arranged transport or anything. What to do? Scramble to go through the motions of trying to get there on time although I know it's hopeless? Or phone in with some fabricated excuse? I usually wake up for real at this point, in considerable anguish.

...in a version of my nightmare
As I said at the outset, none of these calamities has ever befallen me in the waking world, so I don't know why I dream about them happening so often, even now when I no longer work or (during the Covid years) go abroad on holiday. 

As an amusing aside, I did some online searching for reasons why people dream about missing flights and came across a very helpful website titled Biblical Meaning of Airplanes in Dreams. It dispensed the following words of wisdom: "He showed wasps that people who dream of airplanes have a unique character and live a particular lifestyle." Moreover, "Everyone who dreams of airplanes is on an academic path that will give them the strength to understand themselves and their surroundings better." And "It is well known that if you dream of a plane, it means you are looking for absolute freedom, both mentally and physically. If you do not have enough space in marriage, family or work, the plane will indeed appear to you in a dream." Now that is a terrifying thought! πŸ˜†

To conclude, here's a poem from my 'frequent flier' period. I did post it once before in an early blog back in 2014, but most of you will not have read it, or will have forgotten by now. It refers to a time when flights weren't allowed to land at Heathrow before a certain time of day because of noise concerns. I don't know if the rule still applies.

Holding Pattern
We bank, turn left once more,
circling the city,
Weird Summer in my headphones,
weary to the core.
We’ve made good time
on this moonlit night,
riding the curve of earth on a jetstream,
Hollywood to Cricklewood,
and I long to be home,
but we’re just too early to arrive.

We swing to the west,
winging over twinkling grids,
familiar patterns of bosky dark and sodium light,
Wembley stadium, Neasden mosque,
there’s Regents Park and London Zoo,
traffic building up at Hangar Lane,
North Circular already like a clogged up vein.

Down Euston Road, past Centrepoint,
we cross the Thames again
by Vauxhall bridge.
This city never sleeps.
Its avenues and streets, circuses and squares,
malls and mews, benighted thoroughfares
are all exactly where they ought to be,
shadowy but pulsing, a living Gazetteer.

We round the kidney-shaped pond
in the park near where we live -
it shines like mercury in the dark.

At this turning point,
after six thousand miles of flight
I pass mere feet above your heads,
above the beds in which you sleep and dream
and yet it will be several hours still
until I finally reach home,
treading down the dawn to our door.
We bank, turn left once more…

Thanks for reading. I wish you a peaceful week, S ;-)

38 comments:

Jean McDonald said...

That's a good well told tale, full of emotion, humour and even metaphysical philosophy.

Nigella D said...

Amusing reading and I absolutely love the poem.

Ross Madden said...

Guilty conscience that you've never missed a flight (unlike some of us) LOL. Great holding pattern poem. πŸ‘

Ben Templeton said...

Really enjoyed this Steve, loved the account, thought that first plane picture looks amazing and the poem was a treat, so well observed and poignantly played out.

Miriam Fife said...

"a living Gazetteer" - what a great image from a lovely poem.

Carey Jones said...

Loved the latest blog, funny and well-observed. The poem is great too, you've captured well the mix of exhaustion and longing that transatlantic commuting engenders.

CI66Y said...

Enjoyed your blog as ever and the poem is great. Just one thing, I thought you told me that you did miss a flight once from NY. Sure I'm not imagining it. 🧐

Binty said...

Having discovered (thanks Steve) that Biblical Meaning of Airplanes in Dreams website, I now dream of dreaming about airplanes...because I would love to be on an academic path! πŸ˜‚

Penny Lockhart said...

I agree it's interesting that you have lots of dreams about missing a flight, and variations on that theme. Is it significant or merely an indicator of how many times you've flown (and the residual stress there must have been on each occasion)? Anyway, you made a most entertaining blog out of it, so thanks for that and for the vivid Holding Pattern poem.

Steve Rowland said...

Aha Clive. You are both right and wrong. Here's what happened: I was flying into JFK from out west and connecting to the last BA flight to London on a wintry Friday night (the famous red-eye). The weather was bad and the plane I was on was getting into JFK 25 minutes later than scheduled but still with time for me to make the connection, though as a precaution I asked them to radio ahead with a message for the BA desk. When I got to the terminal check-in there was the BA 747 on the apron but they wouldn't let me board because they'd closed the flight 20 minutes early hoping to get an earlier take-off slot. They said the manifest had all been signed off and there was nothing they could do. It was another half-an-hour before the plane taxied away from the terminal, a half-hour in which I had to watch it waiting there while simultaneously venting my wrath and asking what alternative BA could offer as the problem was of their own making. They said the only other flight heading to the UK that night was an Iceland Air flight that was making a night stopover in Reykjavik and arriving in London on Saturday afternoon. I declined. Finally, as my BA jumbo taxied away at its original appointed time, they agreed to put me up no charge at an hotel and get me out upgraded to first class on the first flight on Saturday morning. I think of it more as a case of the plane missing me.

Lizzie Fentiman said...

People miss planes, it happens all the time. That's a Sara Evans song if you know her work. It's happened to me and I don't subscribe to any school of thought (Freudian, biblical or otherwise) that says there's a reason for it, or for dreaming about it. So I'm pleased you were amused rather than taking it seriously. Well done with the lovely poem.

Mac Southey said...

Excellent poem Steve. You've nailed that birds-eye view of pre-dawn London and evoked the traveller's mood of weariness and longing beautifully. I loved it.

Rod Downey said...

Ooh! Disambiguation has to be worthy of word-of-the-week status. Another fine blog Steve, enjoyed your dream scenes and read your additional comment with amusement. You're such a polite and laid-back guy, that rant must have been quite something to see. I really like your Holding Pattern poem (remember it from one of your early blogs).

Debbie Laing said...

Will any of us ever fly again? What with Covid tests and carbon footprints. That's a strange thought. I suppose there will be 'green' aviation one day. That's a lovely poem.

Martin Brewster said...

I laughed with nervous and sympathetic merriment as I can relate to some of those worries. I've missed two flights through getting late to airports. It is bloody annoying. Great poem though. πŸ‘

Anonymous said...

Very good. I too love flying and have been missing that adventure for a couple of years, but maybe we should all burn our passports now. It's become an ecological dilemma. Will the airlines and the tourist industries ever recover? Is it best if they don't?

Sahra Carezel said...

My recurring dream is about a plane crashing into my house. I don't know why, as I live miles from any airport or flight-path. I don't know London but I thought your poem was brilliant, so graphic with its sense of a living map below you. Lovely sentiments too about longing to be home. ❀️

Deke Hughes said...

Well played Steve. I was entertained by your tales of plane terror and mightily amused by the Biblical interpretation of plane dreams; even checked the website...they never talk specifically about what missing a plane means, seeming to concentrate on seeing them, flying them and crashing in them! I've read the poem before - still a treat. πŸ‘




terry quinn said...

Do you have the same problem when catching a train?
Hopefully, from my point of view, the frequent flying will be a thing of the past.
I love the photo of the plane.
Damn fine poem

Jacq Slater said...

Funny blog. You're very entertaining. I hate flying and always have (had?) to psych myself up to going on a plane, but I never dreamt about it. My nightmares are all about floods and the house letting in water, though that's never happened to me either. Strange things, brains. I loved the poem.

Max Page said...

Flying is an adventure. Dreaming of missing a flight is a misadventure. Being late for a flight is an expensive disaster - happened to me once - bloody M25. Count yourself lucky Steve. Great poem. You know your London from the air. 😏

Stu Hodges said...

A great read as ever. The plane photo is stunning (what? where?) and your Holding Pattern poem is cleverly structured, beautifully observed and emotionally engaging. Excellent all round. πŸ‘

Beth Randle said...

I love the poem Steve. ❀️

Seb Politov said...

Yes that's a lovely poem. Well done. I'll google Weird Summer.

Bridget Durkin said...

My recurring bad dream is failing to pick the kids up from school. It did happen the one time - but that's 15 years ago! I thought your Holding Pattern poem was charming.

Celia M. said...

Your poem is lovely. I don't know London but I felt as though I did and that observation that it looks just like its map come to life is wonderful.

Becca Riley said...

Great blog Steve and I absolutely love the poem, especially the part where you're flying over your house - so near and yet so far - it's beautifully done.

Writer21 said...

London is depicted reaΔΊly well and the energy of this city comes through in your poem.

There is a sense of of (Herrick's?) 'Miles to go before I sleep' in it.



Sue Dowd said...

Great poetry.

Tim Collins said...

An entertaining read and what a fabulous poem. πŸ‘ BTW I notice that if you move one letter along in the blog's title you get PlaneT error, an oblique commentary perhaps on the damage done to our fragile atmosphere by so much air travel???

Ruth Maxwell said...

I loved the poem, so beautifully done.

Yvonne S said...

I too have a fear of missing a flight and always arrive early. Similarly, once in the air, I sit glued to the window, always entranced by the lights and movements in the earthly world far below, and making up stories in my head and trying to spot any familiar landmarks. This itself, makes the journey worthwhile - and why I love this poem.

Lynne Carter said...

Fabulous poetry Steve.

Bruce Paley said...

I think your Holding Pattern poem is tremendous. πŸ‘

Anonymous said...

Great poem, as others have noted, Mr R.

Alistair Bradfield said...

An entertaining blog (great pics) and a super poem. Thanks for sharing.

Yvonne Russell said...

I can relate to the recurring dream. Mine is about having a car crash. It's yet to happen! I loved the poem, the clever circular pattern, the beautifully expressed vision of London before dawn from the air, the weariness and longing. Wonderful.

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