Which aircraft stayed with you, and why?

I used to work on this exact aircraft, Eurofly’s A330-200, I-EEZJ.

Rolls-Royce Trent 700s, that deep constant hum that you only notice when it disappears. Long sectors, cruising around Mach 0.82, the aircraft just doing its job without drama. It wasn’t flashy, even at the time, but it was solid and predictable. You could feel it was built to fly far and keep going.

Even as a flight attendant, I got pulled into the technical side more than I expected. I was constantly bothering FOs and captains with questions whenever I had the chance. Fuel, climb, why we were doing things a certain way. At the same time I got hooked on the cabin side as well. Procedures, safety logic, everything having a precise place. I still remember where things were. Oxygen bottles, restraint kits, infant seatbelts. It just stuck.

That job defined a period of my life. Dominican Republic, Cancun, Mombasa, Seychelles, Mauritius, Maldives, New York. Sometimes you’d land and stay 6 to 10 days, just enough to explore and burn your salary. New York was different. You could burn your salary in one night if you wanted, but most of the time it was minimum rest and straight back. Double the flying, none of the destination.

The aircraft was always full and the cabin felt alive. People already in holiday mode before pushback. Service could get chaotic, especially in the back. Tight galleys, trolleys everywhere, and that coffee. Blue plastic jugs with hot water and powder. Objectively terrible. Everyone still drank it.

As a trainee they sometimes let us sit in the cockpit for landing. The one into Malé is something I’ll never forget. After hours in the cabin, suddenly seeing that approach with the ocean all around you felt unreal.

I remember waking up one morning completely disoriented. Half asleep, trying to understand where I was. Florence, no. Gallarate, no. Naples on a positioning stop, no. Then I thought New York. I opened my eyes properly and realized I was in my hotel room in Malé. That kind of location displacement was very real.

I was also unlucky with timing. This was 2008, when the Alitalia crisis hit and dragged everything with it. That chapter didn’t last as long as it could have and I had to move on.

It wasn’t a glamorous aircraft and it wasn’t cutting edge. But it had a very specific feel, and somehow it felt more real than a lot of cabins today.

I was young, constantly tired, probably underpaid, and still I had an absurd amount of fun.