On Journey : Inflight blues

Taking off over the salt pans at Faro
Goodbye, Algarve!

‘Excuse me… why are you polishing the window?’  The young man was tall and pale, squashed into his seat beside me on our Ryanair flight from Faro to Leeds.  That was how our conversation began.  I’ve had many on board exchanges over time, but this young man and his troubles really touched me.  I was at the back of the aircraft and my husband far away at the front, because we are too mean to pay the extra to sit together.  We can cope with separation for a couple of hours, and on this occasion I had the compensation of a window seat.  Which is how I came to be polishing my smeary window.

Glancing at him, I replied ‘Because I like to take photos’.  Fair haired and blue-eyed, he nodded.  ‘That makes sense’.  He seemed eager to chat and we exchanged a few details till he sat back, with a sigh.  I thought maybe he was an anxious flier.  We hadn’t yet taken off when he reached beneath the seat and pulled out a full sized wine bottle.  Glugging at it greedily, the flight crew still about to start the safety demonstration.  Time for some friendly advice!  ‘You’re not allowed to drink your own alcohol on board’, I said, feeling a bit hypocritical because, for the first time ever, I had purchased a small rosé in the Duty Free, intending to drink it with my sandwich.  He looked at me.  ‘I need it!’  In a polite, conversational way he explained to me that he has an addictive personality, currently using alcohol, and that he has an appointment with the family doctor in Leeds tomorrow to check him into rehab.

A moment later he was on his phone, to a friend.  I assumed it was a friend.  In close proximity it’s impossible not to overhear someone’s conversation.  I looked out of the window as we began to taxi along the runaway.  He was talking urgently to Tom.  ‘You are going to meet me?  You promised!  My Dad will give you a lift to the airport’.  Almost pleading.  He was near to tears when he switched off the phone.  Out poured the story.  He was gay, and it was hard to trust anybody.  His boyfriend was supposed to bring drugs to the airport to help him till he could see his GP, but he hadn’t got them.  He was desperate to give up alcohol because it was ruining his life.  He had been terrified they wouldn’t let him on the plane home if he was drunk, but his friends had helped him board.  He had spoiled their holiday because he had no self control.

The plane was now in the air, so all he had to do was appear sober a little while longer.  He was waiting anxiously for trolley service to begin, and we talked.  I felt so sorry for him.  25 years old!  I wondered how I could bear it if my own son was in his situation.  He said that he had a good family, and that they would help, if only he could get home.  The middle child, his siblings were successful.  He had managed to work sometimes, but had spent most of his life addicted to drugs, whatever he could get his hands on.  He’d tried to ‘give up’ numerous times.  This time it had to work because his life was completely out of control.

The lakes beside the River Guadiana

He’d been to the Algarve several times before and liked the place and the people.  He was interested in the landscape unfolding below us, and was amazed at the vast area of lakes along the border.  When the trolley pulled alongside he ordered 2 beers and a wine.  I asked if he should have something to eat but he said it was better this way.  He had to drink himself into oblivion and he would sleep.  He downed one can in seconds and slumped back.  Beads of sweat had broken out on his face.  ‘Are you alright, sir?’ asked the air hostess.  He struggled to answer, and she gently informed him that she wouldn’t be able to sell him any more alcohol.  I smiled, despite myself.  After a while he drank the small bottle of wine, and soon his eyes had rolled.  Unless it’s cloudy I’m usually glued to my window throughout a flight, but I couldn’t settle.  I kept watch as he slept, hoping he could make it through the flight.

He jerked half awake, and groped for the remaining can, spilling much of it in his haste.  A male crew member went past and gave him a disgusted look.  I felt defensive for him and wanted to explain that he couldn’t help it.  The stupor overtook him again, mercifully.  With 20 minutes to go, he woke.  The captain had just announced our descent and, with relief, he reached beneath the seat for the last of his wine.  The crew man was just passing back through the cabin, reached over and took it from his hands.  ‘I must have it!’, he protested, to no avail.

We talked some more.  I asked if he would need assistance to get off the plane and he agreed.  He gave me the name of one of his party, a girl, sitting much further down the plane and said he thought she would help.  When we landed, I climbed past him and went to seek the help of the crew man.  Though sceptical, he noted the details.  I went back to say my goodbyes, to wish him luck and to hope that he could get his life back in order   ‘You’re a really nice lady’, he said.  I so hope that his family have been able to help him.  He seemed a really nice boy.

I would probably have kept this sad story to myself if it hadn’t been for Cathy.  I thought it might work for her On Journey invitation, over at Wander.essence.  She has the makings of a novel over there, and much else besides.

116 comments

    1. Sweetheart, I don’t think you would have reacted any differently. All I did was lend an ear and be grateful that I’d never had to face this myself. I don’t think I could cope. Thanks, Madhu- I do hope he gets the help he needs.

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  4. As you know Jo my daughter has many struggles. Addiction is not one of them but what she values most is people who don’t judge. That is a high expectation but for me that man could have been my daughter struggling to get somewhere safely. To know that there are still people like you willing to listen and to be kind is a big comfort to a mother.

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    1. I’ve always been a good listener, Ann, but my judgement isn’t always sound. I so hope things work out for this youngster but I might be living in cloud cuckoo land. It’s not such a bad place to be. Hugs, darlin! 🙂 🙂

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  5. Sensitive writing Jo. I am afraid I wouldn’t have been half as nice as you were. I would have ignored him and read a book or something. You use words like decent. likeable. nice young man. But is he really? When the drink takes hold? Or the drugs? Is he nice and decent then I wonder. You’re lucky that he slept. What if he had become aggressive? The steward might have given him a look of disgust for a reason. He might have been concerned about what might happen aboard his plane. You are such a lovely and generous lady, always seeing the good in a person. I do hope he genuinely was going to go into rehab and I hope he stops making excuses for his addictions and faces the truth. And I do feel for his parents, and his friends. But I am glad he wasn’t sitting next to me. The nice, decent and likeable ones are the ones that fool you.

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    1. I hear you, Jude, but I do think that being gay brings its own complications. I was well aware that he might be aggressive. He was a well built young man. The stewardess was kind but obviously the safety of passengers comes first. Maybe he was lucky in having a gullible old lady alongside. 🙂 🙂

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      1. Being gay is most likely his excuse for the addictions. They always have one. An excuse. If not that it would be his parents, his teachers, his friends, his work, his lack of work… I know. I am very cynical.

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  6. Oh, you are such a lovely lady, Jo. My first instinct is to disbelieve anything an addict tells me because their sole purpose is to fool the listener into giving them something or helping them get something. But you reached out to this young man and tried to help, good for you. But I must confess, a little niggle of doubt still plays in my mind as to whether he was really trying to help himself. The wine and beer seemed an odd mixture, I would have thought he’d have gone for all wine to dull the senses more quickly, beer just gasses one up. Anyway, who I am to know his motives. I’m glad you were there to listen to him.
    I never pay for seat bookings either on these flights, not early boarding (that never seems to work judging from the arguments I hear every time), so you’re not alone. Enjoy our good weather for as long as it lasts.

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    1. Both you and Jude have looked at it more sceptically then me, Mari. Maybe I am gullible. I liked him, and it didn’t seem to me that my own son had been far from finding himself in those circumstances, without the complications of being gay. And we could write a book about Ryanair, couldn’t we? But we won’t 🙂 🙂

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  7. All of these young people deserve better, don’t they? They just often have trouble coming to that realization themselves. Sometimes you have to let them hit rock bottom to let them realize they don’t want to live their lives that way. In your comment to Lisa, you mention that “life is hard for a teenager these days.” I would extend that to be for young men, especially, but women too, in their 20s who are trying to figure out their lives in a culture that is all about money, success and high expectations. Mine isn’t gay either, but he doesn’t care about the trappings of life – clothes, house, car, etc. He has a different vision of life but it’s out of touch with reality at times. That will always make life hard for him, I’m afraid.

    Thanks so much for sharing this sad story, Jo. I know many people struggling with these issues with some family member, or even within themselves. It’s a tough time out there for those who are trying to be launched in to the world.

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    1. I do think that young men sometimes have it harder than the girls, Cathy, but every circumstance is different, isn’t it? I don’t often stop for beggars on the street, but this young man seemed so vulnerable. Wanting to trust and being let down. I think that being gay can make life more difficult, although we’re not supposed to differentiate. I’m not good at ‘politically correct’, Cathy. Too old fashioned! But I so hope there was a better end to this. 🙂

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      1. I know girls can have it hard too, Jo, but there is that extra pressure on boys to be successful and to be the providers, no matter how old fashioned that idea is. And I’m sure being gay is hard too, especially in the current political environment. Life is a struggle for so many people. It’s sad. I hope things work out well for this young man, and for all people who are struggling to find their way in life. xx

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  8. Gosh, such a sad story, Jo. That young man was fortunate to have you sitting next to him. So many wouldn’t be as tolerant or understanding. I hope he finds the help he needs. Thanks for sharing this with us. ❤

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  9. A sad story, Jo. But it was lovely to hear that the young man seemed touched by your kindness. Pity that others around him are quick to judge. Then again, the cabin crew needs to defend their safety and everyone else’s, and you can’t be too careful in these instances. Hope he finds his way. It sounds like he knows who he is, and just needs a good support group ❤

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    1. He was basically a decent kid, Mabel, who is struggling to find love and security. How many times have we heard that? But many of us are fortunate enough to avoid those pitfalls. When my son was younger drugs were one of my real worries because he was drawn to the clubs and music scene. Thank God he was spared that. 🙂 🙂

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      1. We all want to feel loved and be loved in return…and I reckon deep down we want to love and provide others with a sense of security too. Your son sounds like someone who has a good head on his shoulders. Enjoy the weekend ahead, Jo 🙂 🙂

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  10. Such a compassionate account, Jo, and written with such delicacy. I felt that look of disgust from the crew member from both ends. It made me think how very quick we are to judge. And after we have judged, caring doesn’t come into it.

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  11. Jo, this heartbreaking … what a tragic and sad life for this young man and one can’t help but wonder about his future. He was very lucky to have such a warm and kind person as yourself sitting next to him, and you helped as much as possible. I read your post twice this morning and it is one I won’t forget.

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  12. What a sad story. I don’t think I would have been as lovely as you. I have to be honest, I think I would have been nervous to be sat next to him and would have hidden myself in a book. You were wonderful. I hope he gets himself sorted. X

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    1. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, Sue. He was no ragamuffin, if you know what I mean, but where was the hope in his situation? I so wanted his folks to be there and help him.

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  15. Your heart is so big, my dear friend. Makes me ashamed of dropping the cone of silence over myself on a flight. Empathy really enlarges when you think “it could’ve been mine”, doesn’t it? That’s how I manage to think about the horrors for Polish Jews and the bombardments during the uprising. My twins.

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    1. I was horrified when he first started to tell the story, Meg, but I was drawn in, despite myself. Such a waste because he was a fine, big strong boy, and so lost. His poor family! I only hope they can help him.

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  17. My word Jo you have the makings of a novelist here. I really would like to know how your characters get on. Cathy is bringing out some hidden talents isn’t she

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  19. You had me totally captivated by your story, Jo. Excellent writing, a heartfelt encounter with a stranger in the plane. The young man was absolutely right, you really are a nice lady. ❤ ❤
    The best of luck to him in rehab.

    Have a wonderful weekend,
    The Fab Four of Cley Xx Xx

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