Why I love flying the Roo.

If you follow me on Twitter or FaceBook, you’ll know I was back in Australia last week. I’ll write a different post about that later, but for now, I wanted to send a shout out to the crew of QF7, the flight from Sydney to Dallas on Monday, March 18.

I had used my American points to book my trip to Oz. It doesn’t let you book Premium Economy, which sucks, cause I really wanted to try that out. However, I saw a business class flight on the way to Oz, so I snagged it. I booked in economy on the way home, cause that’s all there was. I was happy to be able to try out QF8 and QF7, because the direct flight from Texas saved me about 16 hrs in layovers in cities like LAX.

So, Business class on the way over was amazing. There’s no First Class on this plane, and I got to sit in row 3. That’s the last seat inside the pointy bit. I had a headache getting on the flight because I had worked crazy hours, driven back to San Antonio, and was just exhausted. I got onto the flight, and they greeted us with drinks. Then came the prettiest little amenity kits with good stuff in it, including moisturizer and lip balm. Then, they brought everyone pajamas. They were super soft and comfy, and everyone seemed to change into them. They had little mattresses for the seats, and proper blankets, and a BIG pillow. They chair had it’s own pod, and a massaging seat. So after about an hour, instead of exploding into a full blown migraine, I was able to lay back, relax, and feel much better. I got off the flight in Brisbane, changed planes to Sydney, and was feeling awesome. I felt like all those supermodels and rockstars look when they get off a long haul flight.

So I had an awesome trip. But the last day, I started to not feel quite so awesome. It was just a little queasy thing after I ate, but it seemed to pass. So I get on my flight home. It was packed, and I had a middle seat. We got served dinner, and then it hit. I still don’t know if I had gastro, or food poisoning or what, but it was bad. Really, really bad. So after asking the cute French guy sitting next to me to move for the third time so I could go be sick, I hid in the back corner near the lav’s for a while. Unable to crouch anymore, I asked the flight attendants, who were finally eating their own dinner if, even though we’re not supposed to, if I could use their jump seat for a bit till the vomiting subsided. They jumped up, said no, it’s against FAA rules, but we’ll find you a seat. They found one in the bulk head right behind the toilet, where I could access it quickly if I needed. (and I did. A lot) They brought me blankets, some electrolyte solutions, a ginger ale, which I spilled all over myself and it looked like I had peed myself, so they got me some pajamas to change into. I had a wicked fever, and they kept checking on me and bringing me water and supplies. They were super caring and really took care of me. The staff really lived up to the new slogan, You’re The Reason We Fly.

Being that sick is bad enough on the ground, but being sick in the air is just miserable. I’m pretty good at gauging how long I had between each bout, and could time it to get up and in line and not make a mess in the aisle…. Thankfully at some point my stomach was pretty empty, and I could sip water and it didn’t come back up again, and they had me eat some fruit for breakfast, even when I said just OJ. After we landed, the boys saw me in baggage collection and checked on me again, commenting I finally had some colour back in my face.

I wish I had been well enough to write down their names to call Qantas and thank them, but here’s hoping they get this Thank You. You guys really did help me get through a really rough 15 hours.

Now, can I just borrow one of them to take care of me now while my stomach is still growling?