Monarch Airlines

There was a time when I thought I wanted to be an air stewardess, I had imagined travelling the world, meeting new interesting people and making use of my languages. The truth is, as superficial as it sounds, the thought of wearing a glamorous uniform and looking important crossing the airport with a wheely suitcase felt particularly attractive too.

I was unsuccessful at many an airline interview. Even in the 1990s, appearance was important if you wanted to work for the airlines. You had to be slim, well turned out and of a certain height. Remember, I still had wonky teeth in those days, so I was sure this was one of the reasons why British Airways/Virgin Atlantic had turned me down. Ah the girl’s got wonky teeth, we can’t have that. Nothing to do with how I came across in the interview, of course.

I persevered until finally Monarch Airlines, a fairly small English chartered airline, accepted me. I thought the hard work was passing the interview, but there were other hurdles to overcome.

We were known as cabin crew, the terminology had changed, and safety was integral. For this reason, we took an intensive compulsory training course for 4 to 5 weeks. A group of about 30 of us trained together, learning about the aircrafts, safety features, first aid, emergency drills, difficult passengers and appearance/grooming.

During this time I became friends with a girl called Sally Jones who looked and acted like a younger version of Joanna Lumley. She made my time that much more entertaining and fun, she was simply hilarious. Unfortunately I lost contact with her, but I do know after Monarch Airlines, she joined Caledonian. She was much more suited to air stewardessing than I ever was, after all, she could apply her lipstick with ease which was always a challenge for me. Mine either smudged, came off or got stuck on my teeth.

The time came for us to get our wings, we had passed our exams and completed all safety training. We got our summer and winter uniforms (exciting, main reason to be an air stewardess, remember) and lovely tan tights with 2 different pairs of shoes, flats for in flight and heels for airport/greeting with bowler hat to finish the look. The uniform was a bit of a disappointment to be honest, I was looking forward to something a bit more stylish. Yellow, white and black were the Monarch colours. The suit was a checkered black skirt and blazer for winter and a floaty blouse and skirt for summer. Not what I had envisaged wearing, walking through the airport.

Me in various states of dress, I particularly like the pinney

We received our schedule, there would be 5 days of flying, 2 days off, the roster changed from week to week. The image of a glamorous lifestyle soon faded. I was living with Nicola at the time in Kingston. An hour to drive down to Gatwick, an hour to meet the crew and go through emergency questions and prepare the aircraft. If you failed your questions, you were immediately grounded. Flights were mostly within Europe with no stop over in between, I think the longest short haul flight was Ghana, 6 hours one way. Once we arrived we had an hour turn around, then greeting the next set of passengers to fly back to the UK. An hour of tidying up, counting money and then the drive back home.

The physical endurance was testing. We were on our feet for long hours with little rest before we were back on the plane again to Italy/France/Canary Islands/Greece etc. Sometimes you would get a great team to work with, other times they could be quite unfriendly. I think I nearly died of excitement when I arrived for my flight only to see that Sally Jones was part of the crew.

Once all safety checks had taken place, the food had been loaded, the passengers boarded, the doors armed and cross checked, we started to taxi down the runway (en route to Rhodes). It was time for the safety demonstration.

The trick was not to make eye contact. Because, if by any chance you caught a dishy chap staring right back at you, it could easily put you off your train of thought. My crippling self conciousness would rise to the max, everything about the manual demonstration felt as awkward as hell.

No.

Look straight ahead Sally.

Then the captain on the intercom, cabin crew take your seats.

Sitting down on our jump seats I soon learnt the modus operandi, act cool, look down, smooth out your skirt, take a look out the window. The plane might be juddering and dropping a metre or two, but you are not bothered or fazed, this is as normal as any ride on a bus.

Ha.

I was already working out the probability of flying, the more I flew the greater the chance the aircraft might fall out of the sky.

Sally you hadn’t planned to die like this.

Once the plane had taken off and we were climbing, we were given the go ahead to start our duties.

Sally and I were lucky to share the same trolley on this flight. Out came the drinks cart, to drink, madam? Gin and tonic? Rosé? Packet of peanuts with that, sir? Ice? Thank you. Back down the plane, a little bit of time in the galley to readjust hair/makeup/lippy.

I never got used to the lipstick, it put too much emphasis on my teeth.

Loading up the meals in the galley, we were out in the aisle again, this time the hot food…chicken or beef, chicken? Thank you. I barely got down the aisle in one piece, the joy of having Sally with me on the other side of the trolley, made me find her and everything else, hilariously funny. Chicken or beef, chicken or beef, sir? Another drink? We’ll be down with the drinks trolley later, anything else?

We had no time for rude customers, efficiency was key, manoeuvring the trolley down the aisle and then back up for another round of coffee, tea, coffee, tea without spilling or looking in the least bit fazed by turbulence. Packing those trays back into the trolley was always a mission then duty free, anyone for duty free.

And clearing away, any empties? Empties?

An announcement from the cockpit, cabin crew take your seats for landing.

Back on the jumpseat, nonchalance was the name of the game. Touch down could either be good or slightly clunky, but either way we didn’t flinch.

Welcome to Rhodes, ladies and gentlemen, where the temperature is….. There was barely a look out the window and we were turning around, cleaning, preparing and flying back to the UK again.

I think I lasted almost a year doing this.