I don’t think I am ever getting to Coron.
This was my disturbing realization as I sat on the 8th row of the 15-row Zest Air MA60 plane on the way to Calbayog City.
My nerves were on the entire duration of the flight. And it wasn’t the coffee. Or the morning rush hour traffic that I narrowly beat going to the old domestic airport.
It’s being inside this claustrophobic-ally small plane. With less than 20 people on the flight. In the longest two hours of my life.
I am scared to death.
I’m almost sure I’ll make it to Calbayog City in one piece. In time for me to write my report and prepare my presentation for the next day. Almost sure.
But I can hear the engine running and to me it sounds like engine failure or something similar. And I see evacuation signs all over the place. And I could not even clutch my bag for comfort as it had to be strapped on the empty seat in front of me “in case of emergency”, according to the crew. And I feel a strange gush of air from below my feet that had me imagining cabin pressure changes that will sound off emergency alarms any moment. And then a lady’s voice on the speaker announces that we are starting our descent to Calbayog City. But when I look out the window we are flying over the middle of an endless ocean. Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t. I have not been this frantic and scared in my life.
I will close my eyes now. I hope we land safe.. soon.
(This entry was handwritten on my notebook while inside flight Z2-280 bound for Calbayog. Typed and published after I settled in my hotel. Yes, I made it here.)