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Friday, 1 March 2013

TALES FROM THE ROAD 19 – WHY I AM MAINLY NOT A FAN OF SMALL AEROPLANES



Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t always a fear thing. I’m just not that great in confined spaces! Most seasoned international travellers and business people will have similar stories to the ones that follow, because part of the territory is learning to appear comfortable in uncomfortable situations.

I admit that a heavy night out at the English pub in Charlotte, North Carolina (run by a Scotsman but what did they know?) probably wasn’t the best preparation for my 7am flight to Montgomery Alabama the following morning. I was flying to see a manufacturer of veranda spindles who was very interested in our high production woodturning machinery. I assumed that our meetings might last until after lunchtime and to be on the safe side I booked a late afternoon flight back to Charlotte. I had not expected a small plane for the outward journey. It had not crossed my mind. But there it stood, adjacent to the farthest gate, and when we were finally allowed to board I found myself hemmed into my window seat by a rather large man for the 90 minute, rather turbulent flight.

Feeling somewhat crumpled, I took a short cab ride to the factory in an industrial area adjacent to the airport and had an interesting meeting with the company President. He showed me around the facility. There was a chasm of difference between the modern day, clean, computerised offices and the dark and dusty factory floor where machines were running without sufficient guarding, as testified by the number of tooling blades that had embedded themselves over the years in various parts of the ceiling. If ever a factory needed our safer, quieter, faster machines it was this one and I consider it one of my biggest failures in business to have not sold them at least one!

I was at the factory no more than 90 minutes, when my customer happily drove me the few minutes back to the airport. I was back there before 11am with my return flight not scheduled until after 6pm. So I decided to sit it out and do some work and maybe some writing in the airport café. As my flight time approached, I started to wonder whether I would have another hemmed in flight back, and guess what. The same plane, the same seat, the same man! So that is why I was not a fan of that small plane.

On the same two week trip, I went to visit a number of existing distributors, potential distributors, and potential end users of our machines, and my journey took me to some interesting regional airports. I took a two hour flight from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to Boston in another small plane on a windy Monday morning.  There were no spare seats, and plenty of travellers on standby for this seemingly very popular flight. Well it wasn’t so popular with me! It was one of those flights where the passengers clapped with relief when it landed safely at Boston. It was truly the most terrifying flight I have ever had, with our small plane being tossed about the sky through dense cloud cover that eventually broke as we wobbled our way down to the tarmac. Platitudes from the pilot didn’t help much: “It may get a little bumpy as we make our descent” seemed to completely disregard the previous 90 minutes of airborne torture, but he had obviously been there before – what a way to earn a living?!

A small plane is also the subject of my most boring ever flight experience after a long week selling carpets in Scandinavia. My colleague and I arrived at Billund Airport in Denmark from Bergen to find that there was another Friday flight delay, and that we were destined to spend three hours in a large Nissen hut that at the time constituted Billund’s departure lounge. Eventually we were escorted across the desolate tarmac to a small British Airways flight. Relieved to finally be in my seat, but separated from my colleague, I then suffered the two hour flight in conversation with probably the most boring man in the world, who apparently had met me in my machinery selling days. I can’t think why I didn’t recognise him in return!

Another BA scheduled small plane flight took me to Lisbon from Manchester on a weekday, and everything was fine until we were on approach, when the pilot decided he had to abort and try again. It was a little disconcerting to go from nose downwards to nose very much upwards in a matter of seconds, but at least the second attempt was successful.

So small planes to me mainly mean discomfort, claustrophobia, boredom, illness, and fear, and other unpleasant things, but the job got done. Apart from the disappointment of Montgomery Alabama (I drove the seven hours from Charlotte on my next visit and didn’t go near the English Pub the night before), I succeeded in finding new business in Boston and on up to Vermont, generated new business with distributors in Scandinavia, and won an order from a Portuguese bank through our distributor there. Well I suppose you have to take the rough with the smooth!

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