Instead, some time later, a man in a grey suit ran towards the gate shouting “Anyone for Kuala Lumpur?” Someone else said “Yes.” The man in the grey suit shouted that we should go to another gate, then he turned around and ran away again. He did not tell us where the gate was, he did not offer to lead us. I found someone else to ask, only to find out that it was in the terminal I had left earlier, the terminal I’d spent the night in in the lounge, two gates from the plane that we had not been allowed to board 8 hours earlier.
I made the same mad dash as I had after leaving the first aircraft, remarkably almost point to point. It’s not irony, it’s annoying. At the gate, there had been no obvious notice about a gate change.
Again, we were just left to find out and that only happens if we disbelieve the information the airline gives us and we check the departure boards. Maybe, if I’d not been up for 40 hours except for a light doze, I’d have done that. But there reaches a point in exhaustion, just before hallucinations start, where you just do as you are told by your captors, and you don’t question them.