By Dr Rahim Said
Imagine seeing a plant growing at 35,000 feet in the sky. No, I wasn’t hallucinating. The chicken casserole was bland, the coffee was instant, and nothing in the in-flight meal was remotely psychedelic.
Yet there it was — a real, living, green plant. Not a plastic imposter or a sad, drooping bouquet plonked into a vase. Nestled on a shelf beside the mirror in the Turkish Airlines forward cabin toilet, growing contentedly in soil.
I did what any self-respecting travel columnist would do: I snapped a photo, grinned like a fool, and spent the next 10 minutes pondering life’s little wonders while passengers knocked impatiently on the door.
In over 60 years of flying everything from budget hops to long-haul hauls, I’ve seen everything in aircraft toilets: motion-sensor taps that never sense you, soap dispensers with attitude, and even a mirror that once made me question my life choices.
But a living plant? Never.
It wasn’t just alive — it was thriving. No brown leaves, no withered stems, no droopy sadness from cabin pressurisation.
Someone, somewhere, actually cares for these little green fellows. Perhaps a devoted crew member, perhaps a mysterious plant-whisperer employed by Turkish Airlines to single-handedly fight global warming at 35,000 feet. Either way, bravo.
And let’s be honest — flowers would have been too obvious. They’re plucked, presented, and dead within hours.
But a living plant? Now that’s commitment. It’s like saying, “We know you’re hurtling through the stratosphere inside a giant metal tube filled with plastic cutlery and vacuum-packed muffins, but here’s a small pot of chlorophyll to remind you there’s still life on Earth.”
I couldn’t help but wonder whether this was company policy — a quirky corporate nod to environmental consciousness — or an unsanctioned act of eco-defiance by a cabin crew member tired of the monotony of plastic everything. Either way, Turkish Airlines deserves credit. If it’s policy, well done. If it’s rogue cabin crew mischief, double well done.
In a world where airlines measure customer satisfaction in recycled plastic cups and slightly warm bread rolls, this little plant gave me hope. Hope that somewhere, someone still believes in beauty, oxygen, and the noble, if improbable, idea of photosynthesis at cruising altitude.
So, to the crew of flight TK-something-or-other: keep watering those plants. You’ve reminded me, and every other passenger who stumbles into that tiny cubicle mid-flight, that it’s the little things that make a journey memorable.
And if Turkish Airlines ever starts serving in-flight salad freshly harvested from the lavatory shelf, I’ll be the first to sign up.
WE