I was on a 48 hour flight from Warsaw to Melbourne back in 1983. The flight was overbooked so people had to share seats, one hour sitting, one hour standing up. The in-flight entertainment was a bag full of supermarket receipts which one of the stewardesses passed round for us to read. Somewhere over the Persian Gulf the pilot fell in to a coma so we were redirected to Khartoum where the plane was only partially successfully landed by the co-pilot who, we later learned, was actually the pilot's son and only 12 years old.
After a week in Sudan (home to some of the best Black Forest Gateau you will ever taste) we continued our journey without incident.
I was on a 48 hour flight from Warsaw to Melbourne back in 1983. The flight was overbooked so people had to share seats, one hour sitting, one hour standing up. The in-flight entertainment was a bag full of supermarket receipts which one of the stewardesses passed round for us to read. Somewhere over the Persian Gulf the pilot fell in to a coma so we were redirected to Khartoum where the plane was only partially successfully landed by the co-pilot who, we later learned, was actually the pilot's son and only 12 years old.
After a week in Sudan (home to some of the best Black Forest Gateau you will ever taste) we continued our journey without incident.