What is the most memorable experience you’ve ever had on an airplane, train or bus, but not a car?

Probably that time in '79 when I met a girl on a bus and we had sex in the back.

I was on a Greyhound bus that did a complete 360 spin on an icy highway -- no injuries, turned out fine. Paused, took stock, and just kept going. (Slowly, and carefully.)

I commuted between Madison and Minneapolis weekly via Greyhound for a while there so have lots of bus stories -- another was when the driver was supposed to Mpls from Madison but went to Milwaukee instead... I figured it out about an hour into it (was just reading and not bothering to look out the window before that) and approached him, he got all pissed at me, the other passengers figured out what was going on and cheered me on...

There was also that time I was on a bus from Boston to NYC and I was squashed against the window for the entire trip by a smelly 400lb prison escapee (or he at least looked like that). I'd actually like to forget that one.

My first international flight when we took a trip to Sweden when I was in the 8th grade. It was a very long flight, midway through the pilot came on the radio and advised we were flying over the North Pole. What an amazing sight that was!

Then, on the return flight, I developed some sort of headache that was so painful all I could do was keep my eyes tightly shut with blankets over my head and scream in agony. I had to be seen by a doctor at the airport before they'd let me go through customs in case I had some contagious illness. Never knew what the cause was and never experienced anything like it ever again.

That was my favorite trip outside the country.

i wrote this up once, so here goes:

It is hard to leave New York. I was determined to get on the bus at 6pm. But spending the afternoon at MoMa with Michaela, I lingered. From 6 became 7, then we made dinner out of it, with more friends.

Finally I got to Port Authority at 10pm, joining the red, white, and blue snake of people baseball-hatted with Red Sox hats. Damn, nobody informed me that Red Sox played the Yankees today, which means half of Boston is trying to get back along with me. A little frog-eyed pug was prancing up and down, panting, looking up at everybody with his puggly eyes. We wait. And we wait. Apparently one bus has come and gone, we are the leftovers that have to wait for an extra bus to be sent.

After about an hour of waiting, it comes. We stuff ourselves on the bus like sardines, and resume waiting. We wait ten minutes, twenty, nothing happens. Suddenly the bus terminal security comes and inquires after a "dog in a plastic bag". Apparently someone complained about a dog on board. A young girl steps forth with the little pug, who is fortunately not at all in a plastic bag. They take her off the bus. Bus is murmuring with disapproval. My neighbor, a young slim woman but with a voice of a hurricane, stands up, pointing at a big grouchy man with thick glasses.

"It was him. He complained. The girl just spent her last money on the ticket and now she'll be stuck in New York because of the fat jerk. The dog couldn't have bothered him, he was at the back of a bus, in a bag!

A young man assumed a role of a negotiator. Any way we could accommodate both? If you sit in the front and the girl with the dog in the back? No. The fat man wouldn't have it. He's allergic, and we should all leave him alone. He won't have the dog on board. More people pitched in with persuading and commenting. The jerk proceeds to insult everyone. All my inclinations to reconcile the masses went down the drain when he referred to the Rutgers basketball team in connection with my neighbor. I was perfectly willing to let anyone shred him to pieces then.

"Wait what I'll do to you when we get off the bus in Boston!" said the fat jerk to the negotiator.

"Are you threatening me, sir? Did everyone hear that?"

"Yeah! We all heard him, get him off the bus!" bus roars.

Negotiator went to get the security. By now the bus is two hours late. Security comes back and asks the man to step off the bus. He won't. We are asked whether we want to proceed to Boston with him, since we're so late already, or call 911.

"Call 911! I don't feel safe with a racist on board!" someone exclaims.

I try to convince the jerk that it's not worth his or our time to be holding everyone up, but he won't budge. "It's a matter of principle!" he exclaims. I roll my eyes, and step outside for a smoke. Finally the police comes and they drag him out during wild cheering of the bus.

In the meantime, the girl with the pug was displaced. A group of volunteers sets off in search of her. When they emerge victoriously, holding the pug up above their heads, his feet sticking up in the air stiffly, another round of hollering ensues. Finally we start for Boston. We'll get there around 4am. Ack. As I drift to sleep, the negotiator is passing around his phone number. He's having a barbecue tomorrow, and wants the whole bus to be there. I have to do this Greyhound thing more often. There sure is more action than in the last James Bond movie.
BTW, the dog's name was Precious.

I was planning to visit friends on Long Island for the weekend. Took the commuter train from Penn Station. It derailed somewhere beyond the city limits. People got very panicky and tried to break windows that were unbreakable. I ended up sitting on someone's lawn until the tracks were cleared and another train came along.

On a flight to Miami, I sat next to a man who brought his own flask and didn't stop drinking from takeoff to landing. Not my business or concern except that he also wouldn't shut up. I'm usually good at getting people to leave me alone when I don't to be bothered. He picked up no signals. Drink and talk. Talk and drink. I tried watching the movie with him yammering away beside me. The longest flight.

jumble of memories -

There was the battle with the turnstile in Rome after we'd been awake 30 plus hours, and were rescued by a well dressed gentle uomo who led us to the correct subway train (not that one we were aiming for) and even rode with us one stop. He set the standard for my love of Rome.

Years earlier -
a high school friend and I resented, well, near hated, the Lennon sisters. Her mother taught one of them. We both had Lawrence Welk and tv trays in our family lives, enough said. A one, and a two, and a three...

So, some years later I was riding the greyhound bus on my way to LA from San Diego ($6.00), and sat next to a woman who started and didn't stop talking about the Lennon sisters. I forget the why of it. I wasn't even from Venice, where their home was, then. I wasn't the brash verbal person I can be now, and just did, what, two hours of nodding.

The romance in Mexico City - part of it involved a bus ride to and from Tenochtitlan, not quite like Nick's. If I ever scan pictures, I'll have a nice one, no, no, not what you're thinking.

The bus to Chichicastenango, a highland town in Guatemala that has been a tourist mecca lo these many years. Yes, it was steep and Chichi sort of scary with the goose stepping soldiers (73), but the key memory was of the people walking up steep grades carrying big clay pots to market on their shoulders.. a long way.

A flight over the Alps in late February... the Alps!!!!

The time the Aeronaves plane set down in TJ while the stewardesses said their rosaries.. and the first guy out, man in a black suit, kissed the tarmac...

flying into Tikal, not scary at the time. Still, non pressurized, if I remember right, and not good to crash.

and my father took me into a wwII bomber at wright field - uh.

adds, viva the pugs!

oy, Roberta, I had one of those, but next to a retired Navy Seal. He was on a wheel chair and had seizures every 10-15 minutes. He was a violent drunk, too. He yelled at stewardesses, cursed...I did not dare to not listen. He claimed to have seven bullets in his body (I believed him) and kept talking (7 and 1/2 hour long flight, mind you) about how he saw the light, Jesus is our savior, repent and you'll be saved (didn't stop him from drinking and abuse though)... The Longest Flight Ever.

That beats the Lennon Sister Woman by a lot.

i don't know such sisters. good for me, i guess. the iron curtain was finally good for something.

Did you have sex at the back of the bus that time too?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5zOXwBFMRQ&feature=PlayList&p=F22BF67380C5D2D4&playnext=1&index=29

Actually, I don't hate them.
Now. Wish them well.
(I went to St. Monica's, but not the high school. Same years. Oh, shut up, Osso.)

My most memorable plane trips were c/o of the Naval Reserves. My first summer away I worked on an air base in PEI (Maritime Command re: navy connection) and they tried to get all the reservists up in the air at least once. I tagged along on a trip to Ottawa (to deliver lobsters for some government function -- your tax $ at work). The plane was an Argosy with a plexiglass nose cone with a seat in it. Once the plane was airborne you could crawl through this passage under the cockpit and sit in mid air (or so it seemed). The view was amazing! The weather was sunny and clear and I remember flying over a huge open pit mining operation and seeing holding ponds of incredible colours (probably mineral salts or something). And on the way back I saw the lights of Montreal. There was some extra excitement when one of the engines caught fire and we had to hurriedly land in St Hubert.

The next summer I flew from Halifax to Vancouver on a commercial flight as the timing for a course I was taking couldn't be accommodated by a military flight. I had to fly in my oh-so-attractive potato sack uniform with old lady shoes (they were really comfortable though -- but ugly! Jeez!) and I was seated next to this gorgeous young man. The whole trip he told me about some get-rich-quick scheme he and some friends had. They'd pooled all their resources and sent him off to see some guy who had the patent for, or a franchise for, or something (I forget) for a process to clean cooking oil over and over again so you could use it for a really long time. He had a wad of cash duct taped around his ankle under his sock (he showed me -- well, I was in uniform -- I suppose I looked trustworthy). I heard more than I'd ever wanted to about deep fryers let me tell you.

Bussing from Vancouver to Yellowknife with my 5 yr old and sitting in front of three moronic teens who argued the entire 3 days about how many beer it'd take to kill you.

One time flying from Winnipeg to Thunder Bay in a snowstorm. There was to be a stop in Dryden. We were on the approach to Dryden and, having a window seat, I could see the snow covered runway directly beneath us and was prepared for the bump that you sometimes land.

Suddenly, and without warning, the plane went to full power and we were thrust back in our seats. As the power was applied we seemed to be going almost straight up. Or, so it seemed.

The pilot came on the speaker and said, "Ladies and gentlemen. We will not be landing in Dryden and will continue on to Winnipeg. For those passengers whose destination was Dryden...please see the gate agent in Winnipeg."

We never received an explanation for what had happened. One thing that came to mind was a previous incident in British Columbia where a snowplow was on the runway and a plane hit it upon landing. I don't know if this was the case here, but it sure scared the bejeesuz out of everyone.