Well, I thought I hated flying with Russians more than any other culture. That may have changed last night. I was surrounded by people (read men) coughing, spitting up phlegm, putting their arms on me and being flatulent. And the flight was put into a holding pattern in the air above Muscat. Which means my 5 hour flight turned into a 6.5 hour flight. Which, in turn, meant I didn't get to my airport hotel (I canceled on the B&B, thankfully!) until 2:45. Wake-up call at 7:10. I couldn't figure out how to get hot water out of the shower. Blah. Blech. And eeewwwwwww.
I'm now at the airport waiting to board surrounded by, yep, Russians. I might actually be a bit happy about this. When I got to the seat I'm sitting in, a man was holding 3 seats and told me I couldn't have the empty seat. I'm so tired it took a while to process and I sat down. He shrugged. When his wife showed up, he says to her, "She doesn't speak Russian. She didn't know not to sit there." Ha! No, it's just that I didn't really think you needed 4 seats for 2 people!