The only thing we have to fear is…fear itself⁽¹⁾

DALL-E imagines, rather literally, flying in girl-mode

Sometimes the only way to deal with a particular fear is to face it, head on^[2].

Flying in girl-mode

Without being reckless, Sophie can be herself in most European countries (EU/EEA/CH), at least in the Capitals & big cities. She has toured the Vatican (which is full of men in dresses anyway who work there), has chassé gracefully across the floor of the Sistine Chapel, and partied & touristed her way around many interesting places since the Covid lockdowns ended.

But she has never flown as herself.

Airport security is intimidating enough at the simplest of times. Some of the millimetre wave scanners expect the operator to select the gender of the person being scanned, and they don’t necessarily have the training or experience to avoid awkward, embarrassing issues which could really put one off travelling.

“It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the expression ‘as pretty as an airport’. Airports are ugly. Some are very ugly. Some attain a degree of ugliness that can only be the result of a special effort. This ugliness arises because airports are full of people who are tired, cross, and have just discovered that their luggage has landed in Murmansk […] and the architects have on the whole tried to reflect this in their designs. They have sought to highlight the tiredness and crossness motif with brutal shapes and nerve jangling colours, to make effortless the business of separating the traveller from his or her luggage or loved ones, to confuse the traveller with arrows that appear to point at the windows, distant tie racks, or the current position of the Ursa Minor in the night sky, and wherever possible to expose the plumbing on the grounds that it is functional, and conceal the location of the departure gates, presumably on the grounds that they are not”
Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

So, as I said, Sophie has never flown as herself. Until today, 2024-11-01, that is.

She had planned to fly to Brussels Charleroi in September and drive from there to Cologne/Köln for a few days with the entire trip in girl-mode. Begium & Germany felt like fairly safe destinations. But unfortunately this trip had to be cancelled.

My next trip abroad was to București in România. Not quite as cosmopolitan as a destination, but the capital itself is one I feel safe in generally, and have been out to nightclubs a few times in girl-mode a couple of years ago.

For various logistical reasons I chose to fly back into the UK from București in girl-mode rather than flying out.

“I’ve started so I’ll finish”

This was, for me, quite a scary prospect. Normally when I go somewhere in girl-mode, I can simply leave at any time if I feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Not really an option at an altitude of 10Km. At least not a recommended option. Same with the airport each end.

There is a long, tedious, process to go through at the first airport (hold luggage check-in, security screening for yourself & hand luggage, passport control, gate checks, boarding – all connected by endless maze-like corridors) and if you want to actually catch your aeroplane, you must complete these steps in the correct order and in time. There are few, if any, options; one must trudge endlessly on through the process.

Just another ̸b̸r̸i̸c̸k̸ ̸ passenger in the ̸w̸a̸l̸l̸ ̸ airport

There is then a (hopefully) slightly less long, tedious, process to go through at the second airport (disembarkation, lengthy walks, passport control, baggage reclaim with its own excitement waiting for the Throwers™️ to gently hurl the cases onto the belt, and Customs) and, if you want to actually emerge before the heat death of the universe, you must complete all these steps in the correct order. Welcome To The Machine.

Thus it has been something that although I’ve wanted to do, it has taken some time for the urge to overwhelm the fear.

Last night in București

For my last night in the city, Sophie headed out to Q Club – “For the coolest people in the city” according to their website. Certainly it was a friendly, cosmopolitan, and diverse crowd there.

Aiming for a respectable but fun look, she combined a purple top purchased at Castelul Bran (Dracula’s castle, pictured) with a faux leather gothic-vibe skirt, heeled ankle boots, and a faux leather brown jacket, and of course shiny metallic purple nails!

Off to Aeroportul București!

Airports not being nightclubs, she selected a more conservative ensemble for this new experience. Same jacket, same boots, same nails, with a Grace Karin top featuring the currently popular pussy-bow, and a purple below-the-knee skirt.

Filling the hire car at a petrol station ready for return, had a bit of a wobble when I went to pay. The extremely muscular cashier inside gave me some unease. Whilst not wishing to judge people by looks alone, my spidery senses told me to expect with equal probability one of three types of interaction: neutral with no problems, hostile (overt or implied), or salacious.

Another member of staff noticed me, and beckoned me over to a till she opened up just for me. She was very friendly and smiling a lot, and admired my nails. I wondered if she was just curious, or whether she shared my concerns. Grateful either way.

The staff at the hire car office didn’t bat an eyelid, nor did the driver of the shuttle bus to the airport. Now for the difficult part.

Departure Airport

Henri Coandă International Airport is a favourite of mine. For me it’s right there in the Airport Goldilocks Zone: Neither too big (which can be exhausting & confusing) nor too small (where you feel like you may end up sitting in the seat next to the pilot holding the map for them), but just right.

It’s a busy modern airport which already owns the land it will need in the future for expansion. Located in Otopeni (hence IATA code OTP), with pretty good transport links.

Luggage check-in: quick and painless. Case a little heavier on the way home with a few souvenirs, but well under the limit.

Security: Having carefully made sure that all liquids & gels were in my hold luggage, I was a little disappointed in myself for forgetting that boots with heels are almost certain to set off the metal detector, so had to remove them, put them through the scanner, and do the Walk Of Shame through the metal detector a second time. Aside from that self-imposed indignity, no problems at all, and no fuss or awkwardness. However, no millimeter wave scanner involved here, so that experience awaits me at some airport or other in the future.

Passport Control: Frustratingly long queue, but blame brexit for that; UK Citizens can no longer use the automated control gates – not for technology reasons, but because we have to have our passports stamped in & out, just to remind us regularly of our massively reduced stature and position in the world. Thanks a bundle. Despite that, and almost keeling over in the lengthy queue from the heat (now I’ve grown my hair almost long enough to not need a wig in girl-mode, wearing a wig on top too makes for an extremely warm head), this went well too but with the addition of a lovely moment that really made my day.

The lady checking passports in my line did a massive double take when she opened my passport. She checked my destination with me (thinking initially that I was presenting someone else’s passport in error), then grinned like the proverbial Cheshire Cat and showed it to colleague next to her (checking the next queue along) who reacted exactly the same way. A memorable moment for only good reasons 💃🏻.

*Cheshire Cat with signature grin, Alice in Wonderland*

Rating for my experience: 10/10, plus made my day

The Flight

Actually getting to the aeroplane itself was quite a relief after all that. And really, the flight itself was uneventful – generally a good thing when flying, I think. There were a few curious but mainly discreet looks, but that’s OK. The cabin crew didn’t bat an eyelid.

I listened to some music, read a book, bought a sandwich & a hot chocolate, slept a bit. I’ve flown quite a bit with Wizz Air (which I find much like Easyjet, but purple instead of orange, and I love purple), and it was as smooth as usual.

Rating for my experience: 10/10

Arrival Airport

Liverpool John Lenon Airport is about equal in travel time for me to Manchester Airport. Unless I get myself a small hovercraft, in which case it would be quicker to get to via the edge of the Irish Sea and up the Mersey, avoiding road traffic. It has grown significantly since I first flew from there in 1997 when I could have sworn that the same person checked us in, ran the security scanner, checked the passports, and maybe even flew the aeroplane.

Disembarkation was relatively quick. However, I am used to travelling with someone who needs an ambulift to embark/disembark aircraft so pretty much anything seems speedy relative to that.

Even a small airport like Liverpool manages to provide the requisite lengthy walks through draughty corridors. I guess it’s just traditional.

The UK Border brought with it the delights of Passport Control and a queue the length of several aeroplanes. My heart sank a little when I was called forward to a line with a very stern looking gentleman, but he turned out to be delightfully jovial. No problems at all there.

Baggage reclaim was straightforward. Customs a non-event.

And that’s it: mission accomplished!!

Rating for my experience: 10/10

The point of the journey is not to arrive^[4,5]

Overall, a great experience, and no real problems, the only frustrations being the same ones encountered going through any airport. The staff were all very professional and friendly, and it almost feels like I should have just done it ages ago.

However, this has been merely one sample, so not statistically meaningful. I will be travelling this way again, but with practical limitations; there are many countries where I’d never consider doing this, and unfortunately this list is getting longer and now includes the USA – mind you, I feel absolutely no urge to go there again anyway regardless of mode.

It does still feel like a small achievement; being visible helps, in a tiny way, to normalise the experience that people get of seeing non-binary invidivuals just getting on with their lives.

Footnotes

(1)^[3] Except, that is, for increasing, and increasingly violent, transphobia in many parts of the world, notably across the Big Pond in the USA 😬

[2] Does not apply to fear of Lions 🦁, Leopards 🐆, Tigers 🐅 etc. At least not without specialist help. Especially if that specialist help comes in the form of someone you can outrun 🤭

[3] WordPress doesn’t allow superscripts in an article title. And even applying my best Unicode-fu, the best I could manage were round parentheses since there are no superscript square ones in Unicode.

[4] Prime Mover by Rush, from their 1987 album Hold Your Fire

[5] To be clear, that’s talking about the arrival being incidental (the journey itself being the important part), not about a journey without end!