About half an hour into the flight, one of the air hostesses began distributing something from a trolley. I wondered if it was for everyone, and if so, was it free? I mentally counted my cash, worried that I might not have enough. To my relief, no payment was asked for.

As I tried to figure out how to handle the food, I noticed it was wrapped in paper—unlike the usual restaurant service. The food looked strange, shaped like a crab, and I worried it might be non-vegetarian. The butter was messy and applying it was a challenge. The utensils seemed too delicate to use. Despite these concerns, the free food tasted good. Tea and coffee followed, with the tea being oddly pronounced "tche" rather than "tea." The coffee was disappointing compared to my wife's excellent brew.

After what felt like an eternity but was actually just one and a half hours, we were announced to be landing. During takeoff, I had noticed an air hostess using sign language, but the aircraft noise made it difficult to understand. I managed to put my seatbelt back on, struggling with the tight fit around my now full waist. Landing was even scarier—eyes half-closed, I felt a thud, a jolt, and the plane seemed out of control before it finally slowed to a halt.

I awkwardly grabbed my bag, which had "flight no." written all over it, and bumped into a couple of overhead locker doors. I thanked the staff sheepishly and made my way down the steps, feeling the rush of freedom.

Later, I learned that we were lucky to have avoided turbulence—a frightening experience reserved for another flight on another day.

Continued in 141. Flights Of No Fancy - Part 3