Fear of flying ... and of unattended suitcases

by Paul Myers

Article published on the 2008-08-06 Latest update 2008-08-14 13:48 TU

A customs officer at Beijing airport
(Photo: Reuters)

Let me reveal my prejudices, I don’t like flying in a plane. Not quite sure when this started but it’s been around for a few years now. I will go on an airplane but I’m not itching to board. That said, one has to fly to go to places like...China. Though, if I’d left two weeks ago and used an array of trains and boats, I might be arriving in Beijing about now...

That didn’t happen. And, for a moment, the journey here to Beijing was on the verge of not happening. I arrived suitably early at Terminal 1 in Charles de Gaulle airport. I waited in line with about half a dozen others.

Eventually the ground staff turned up and nonchalantly opened up the aisles that we’d feed into. Suitably attuned to our Pavlovian cues, we shuffled into expectant order. Then they went away.

I felt spurned. But not quite as rejected as the bulging suitcase that was in the queue. Odd, I thought, when did that turn up? More importantly, why is no-one with it?

Two passing airport executives clearly had the same reservations. They stopped, scanned and furrowed their brows. When I caught their frown I said, “I’ve just noticed that too. I saw a man with it.”

They waited a few minutes after calling airport security. A good five minutes had passed during which time the queue for checking into CA 934 had started moving.

It wasn’t proceeding fast enough for me. What to do? I couldn’t exactly leave my bags and flee to the other side of the building. To run off while pushing my trolley would be terribly undignified, overly slow and would defeat the purpose of trying to escape. So I stayed and fretted.

The suits talked some more into their phones and eventually a man returned. The executives became animated. The man gesticulated. But he didn’t look at all penitent.

How can you leave your bags unattended in this day and age? My initial concern would be someone stealing my dazzling range of desirable apparel. But, in the wider context, we live in an age of bombs.

But perhaps I’m being so yesteryear. These days people stay with their explosives. They are the devices. And they’re known to prey on buses, underground trains, markets and bazaars. Not just airport queues for flights to China.

Well that takes care of my fear of flying. Now to tackle the plain fear of living.