Justine Tyerman is saved by Mr Unflappable.
I did the unthinkable at Sydney Airport this week. I lost my boarding pass.
I have no idea how it happened, but en route to board my LATAM flight to Auckland, I discovered it was not tucked inside my passport where it normally sits . . . securely stowed in a special little passport-and-boarding-pass-only zippy-up pouch. After decades of an unblemished travel record, sans mishap or serious misadventure, I had committed a monumental fail.
The physical sensation of realising my boarding pass was AWOL was akin to the sudden onset of a severe bout of influenza or some dreadful tropical disease. Tidal waves of hot and cold fever engulfed me accompanied by confusion, panic, tremors and weak knees.
Then mercifully, after what seemed like an ice age crossed with a heatwave, my rational thought processes gradually returned and I retraced my steps . . . many of them . . . to the security check, the lounge, the loos, the duty-free, all to no avail.
Remembering my gate number, I bolted in that direction with a reasonable buffer zone of half an hour to spare before boarding. Breathless and flushed in the face, I blurted out my shameful story to the unflappable Aussie chap on the LATAM desk. Fully expecting to be treated with the utmost suspicion and sent back to the check-in counter several light years away, I was overwhelmingly relieved when Mr Unflappable beamed a huge grin and said, "No worries mate. I'll just print you off another one."
"But what if someone turns up with my boarding pass and gets on the plane before me and takes my seat?" I asked anxiously.
"Don't you worry, mate. He won't get past me, that's for sure," he replied reassuringly.
I could have kissed the man but spared him the extreme embarrassment. I held the precious slip of white paper to my heart as though it was a priceless treasure, and tears of relief dribbled down my hot cheeks.
With my boarding pass safely secured in its special pouch inside my handbag, my heart rate returned to normal and I re-joined the human race. I counted my blessings. I was not locked up, I did not have to fork out for another airfare, I could catch my flight home . . . the sky did not fall.
The boarding pass episode was actually one of a series of unexpectedly pleasant experiences with LATAM. The check-in lady was exceptionally kind to me, turning a blind eye to the few extra kilos my case had gained while mother-of-the-bride shopping in Sydney, and the flight to Auckland was supremely comfortable.
I boarded extra-early and after giving thanks that there was no one else ensconced in my seat clasping my original boarding pass, I discovered the leg room in economy was generous and the seat-recline quite luxurious. Lunch was delicious accompanied by a lovely crisp Chilean white wine poured by the glass . . . albeit plastic. And LATAM had proper knives and forks.
The winged headrest was soft and squishy and adjustable to my short stature. And the flight was so fast I hardly had time to sleep and no time to watch Ryan Gosling in the Notebook, one of many options in the excellent seatback entertainment selection. The cabin crew were efficient and delightfully friendly, and the flight itself, silky smooth. I'll fly LATAM again . . . perhaps to Santiago.
• Justine Tyerman flew LATAM from Sydney to Auckland.