Hello, Almaty.

Robin here. Well, we said our sad goodbyes to Igor at the Petro airport and landed safely in Almaty on Saturday. The first leg of the trip from Petro to Astana turned out to be a contract flight. In other words, instead of being on an Air Astana Fokker 50 aircraft, we were on a sturdy (proud rivets the size of M&M’s – forget that flush rivet fad - Greg’s educated observation) but REALLY old Russian Antonov 240 relic flown by an unknown carrier with the initials “AJ.” I was so busy hustling across a windy and cold tarmac to get to the plane that I didn’t even notice that it did not display the Air Astana colors and logo. Air Astana is the best and safest carrier in Kazakhstan and operates under Western aeronautical standards. So, imagine my surprise when we boarded and I immediately recognized that this aircraft was not on par. The seatbelts barely worked, most of the seatbacks were askew and the interior décor was as dated as the flight attendant. Still, it did not register with me that we were not on an Air Astana aircraft.

Once in flight I noticed that Greg was smirking about something. I kept asking him what was wrong, but he told me that he would explain after we landed. The roar of the out-of-sync engines was deafening, so I didn’t press him on the subject. Greg was in a window seat, Kristina was in an aisle seat and I was in an aisle seat directly across from her. We were surrounded by 7th grade boys on a field trip to Astana, and as luck would have it, the boy directly in front of Kristina and the boy directly behind Kristina spent most of the flight heaving into their barf bags. I had a clear view of it all and let’s just say that it’s a good thing I have a strong stomach. I felt so sorry for the poor boys, but all I could do was listen to the roar of the engines, try to take shallow breaths and silently pray that we landed safely.

Kristina also added to my joy when she announced that she had to go pee-sitz. The bathroom was literally in the tail of the aircraft and it was not a pretty sight. The toilet was so high off the ground that poor Kristina had to jump up to get on. I had to stand outside the room with the door slightly ajar to watch her since it was impossible for both of us to fit in there at the same time.

Once we landed I asked Greg what he found so amusing -- and that is when he told me that we were not on an Air Astana plane. I then understood why this flight was so utterly inferior to other Air Astana flights we had taken. Once the mystery was solved for me, I was relieved that the second leg of our journey from Astana to Almaty would be on a Boeing 737. That flight, by the way, was perfect. We met up with our driver at the Almaty Airport and he proceeded to provide even more thrills in a pretty fast and frenzied ride to the Hyatt Hotel. Check-in felt like it lasted forever and once in our room we collapsed onto the bed and ordered room service.