Snow causes chaos for Cabin Crew too!

The Diary/Rant of a Cabin Crew Member

3 rd February, 2026

Greetings all, and congratulations on making it through the first month of this new year! And how are we all finding 2026 so far?

It’s been a calm kind of month for me, thank the lord, after the chaos of December that was. Well, calm in the way that my roster was a little less jam packed, and astonishingly the rostergods even gifted me an extra day off here and there - something unheard of in busiermonths, a thing of myth and legend in this business.

So where exactly did I go? I ask myself as I write. It’s not unusual for me to forget where I’ve just been by the time I reach the car park back at base, so trying to recall the whole of last month is no mean feat, let me tell you… but perhaps I should start with the one trip that comes to mind first, the one where we got snowed in and cancelled. Yes, that one was a real treat, and I say that with more than a touch of mirth.

You see, cancellations are a part of the job, they happen, and we just go along with whatever that means for us personally. But tucked neatly under the umbrella term ‘cancellation’ is a whole spectrum of scenarios, some considerably more appealing than others. So, let’s begin with the best-case version. That will be the one where you wake up in a great destination, you’re there with a wonderful crew, and you open your phone to a message saying that your flight home is cancelled. You’re stood down, they say, and released to do as you will until at least the next day. Well, if that is how it happens, then way-hay! On goes the bikini and in comes the bloody Mary, why not! It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, as long as you are somewhere decent that extra day can be a real treat, and let’s not forget to mention that you get a whole extra day’s per diems too… to be spent on food, or as is my preference, enough cocktails and wine to pass the time merrily.

Then there’s the type of cancellation which isn’t quite so ideal. Perhaps you’re at home and, while you do get the day off, you’re quietly rolled onto another flight the following morning. Or worse still, you’re sent on the same flight the next day, your rest downroute reduced to the legal minimum and any plans you had for the trip disappearing in a dramatic puff of smoke.

Still, at least you had notice, and you hadn’t even left the house yet.

Or maybe you had. Maybe you get the call to turn around and go home again, or you make it all the way to check-in only to be sent straight back out the door. Not great, but still not the worst. Because the worst happens much further down the line and, quite frankly, in the words my children might use, it absolutely sucks.

This is the one where you get to the aircraft, you board all the passengers, and then you wait. You wait for the engineers to fix something, for the storm to pass, or, as was our case, for a break in the snow. You wait until you can’t wait any more. Until you’ve handed out every snack on board, poured what feels like a thousand cups of water, and answered the same question on repeat. ‘No Sir, no Madam, I do not know what time we’ll be leaving.’ And then, finally, your hours are used up and you have to get everyone off again. You gather your bags, ignore the more hateful comments from the few who decide this is personally your fault, climb back onto the bus and return to the hotel, having already done a full day’s work. The snow makes the journey painfully slow, and by the time you reach your room you’ve got ten hours to rest. Not even long enough for a snowball fight, or a drink at the bar. And just as you drift off, the dreaded wakeup call arrives and you’re back at it.

Back on the bus. Back through the airport. Back onto the same aircraft. Greeting the same passengers you served all day yesterday, while listening to complaints about the airline, the delay, the weather, and every other detail entirely outside of anyone’s control.

And we do feel for them, we really do, but some just take it too far. Because, here’s the thing, Barry. We’ve had a rubbish day too. We’ve missed things. We’ve had to rearrange childcare, dog care, and all of that palaver. Yet here we are again, still smiling, still serving you, still being professional.

And there you are, your life apparently ruined by us, not by the snow that stranded us all and which no one could do anything about. And I am a hamster hair away from opening the door behind me and throwing you out of it.

So, Barry, take your glass of water and please return to your seat before I completely lose my shit and say or do something I may later regret!

And meanwhile, the wings are being de-iced, the snow is still falling, and the ever-too-jolly captain comes on to say we may be delayed for a while. Again. Barry looks at me as if it’s entirely my fault that it’s snowing again and that we can’t just take off in a blizzard. And, well, I stare him down right back. Yes, we’ve been here before, and yes, yesterday’s delays-on-delays eventually meant the flight went out of hours and had to be cancelled, but for the love of my sanity, I have to believe that today will be different.

Because if I have to listen to you whinging all day again and then go through it all over tomorrow, Barry, I’m really not sure I’ll be accountable for my actions!

Oof, sorry, a bit of a rant there, I do apologise. I didn’t realise I was holding in so much rage, hehe, but that little man was insufferable, I tell you! Everyone else, I must say, was actually quite understanding, but there does always seem to be a Barry on every flight.

So, that was what happened to me, and I have to admit I did send a few choice words to ops about perhaps not leaving it until the last possible minute to cancel in future - especially when we literally watched all the other airlines cancel much sooner than us. Their passengers weren’t on board for eight hours. Their crew probably made it back to the hotel before the bar was even shut and had a good night’s sleep, if they’d come to the airport at all. But not us. No siree!

But I must move on. I do apologise again! It isn’t something that happens often, and this really was the worst-case scenario, but I guess at least the flight took off safely when we eventually got going. It did bump me off my next trip, which was a welcome treat, and also meant I got to see Mother on her birthday, so perhaps it all happened for a reason. Perhaps tolerating Barry was a small price to pay.

Thankfully, the rest of the month was quite straightforward. A quick visit to Washington, which really was beautiful under a fresh blanket of snow. I braved the cold to pop round and see Donald, but he wasn’t at home, so I settled for a quick selfie outside his White House and had some time for reflection with my old friend Abraham Lincoln down at the monument. I had my usual General Tso’s chicken from the Chinese across the road and enjoyed a wonderful rest and pamper back at the hotel.

The flight was perfectly empty, which apparently isn’t good for business, the captain tried to tell me. But while it probably isn’t, I can’t help relishing the usual post-Christmas slump, where every passenger gets a row of seats to themselves and you can squeeze in a two- hour nap on a six-hour flight. Yes, the flight probably won’t be helping the airline’s balance sheet much, but I’m sure we’ll soon be hurtling towards Easter and filling those seats quicker than you can say ‘Doors to manual and cross-dress.’

A quick trip to Africa for some warmth, a Star beer and a plate of Jollof, a few days of leave, and that was me done. It really wasn’t too bad, I must say. And now we head into February, with only one more month before the cold starts to settle and Spring raises her head. I must admit, I will be glad when I no longer have to de-ice my car in the early mornings or wrestle a winter coat into my carry-on. But then I do love the seasons, and while I don’t see much snow here on the south coast of England, I always feel lucky to see it when I’m away, just as I feel lucky to see the sunshine when the days are so short and grey at home.

It’s one of the best things about the job, breaking up the mundanity of the British winter, but I am always glad to come home. And now, as I sit in my pyjamas with the log fire burning and my dogs sleeping around me, I am in no rush for it to be over just yet. Perhaps if I didn’t do this job I might feel differently, but thankfully I chose what really is the best job in the world, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Well, from me that is all, and I’ll leave you here with a wish for a joyous month ahead. Enjoy the end of what really is our hibernation, enjoy the short days and cosy evenings for the peace that they bring. Rest up and re energise fellow crew amongst you, because soon enough we’ll be back to packed rosters and full flights. Savour the quiet while it lasts, and get ready - because this year is only just taking off…

Much Love,

Susan