Foreign trips were much less common for me, of course. But when they happened, they happened in style. Back then it was all about the glamour, even in economy: velvet curtains (no, not like the ones in Wan Chai), proper plates, free cigars, you know the sort of thing. Sometimes I even went by train.
But not anymore. A chum of mine who runs a European bank out here was telling me this week of his latest nightmare journey back from the Mainland.
Being stuck for three hours on the tarmac once you've boarded sounds like no fun, but at least the cabin crew had the sense to go through the entire meal service on the ground. With the blinds pulled down on the window and ignoring the lack of turbulence, you could almost think you were actually flying, so my friend said.
Not everyone is even that fortunate, though. The prolonged delay inevitably sparked recollections of other horror stories, one of which was of a local flight stuck on the ground for 10 hours. After an ordeal like that, no wonder the passengers staged a break-out.
"Apparently," my friend told me in a conspiratorial whisper, "the non state-owned airlines often get pushed down the pecking order for take-off slots." Fancy that!