I don't normally write these columns in situ, but I'm currently embedded in a plane at Macau airport. Thunderstorms have diverted United Airlines flight 895 to Macau. We are, some four hours later, still here.

Refueling is delayed by the storm; the crew is now out of its duty cycle. Macau airport won't let us off: apparently other flights have backed up and the terminal is "full."

The pilot, who has been forthright, communicative and even combative in his attempts to get the airline or airport to resolve the situation, says something about "Macau no longer being Portuguese, the Chinese authorities won't let us disembark." Perhaps the basics of world politics should be required training along with aerodynamics.

This is not, at least not yet, a horror story. The crew has been considerate and good-natured. The pilot is obviously in charge. The passengers haven't mutinied. The "inflight entertainment system" has been turned back on. But food rationing has started - not a good sign - we're down to hardtack (actually granola bars) and water.

The latest news is that a new crew will arrive and we'll depart around midnight, some seven hours after we touched down. And we've finally been allowed off the plane in the interim. One would like to complain, but it's hard to pinpoint what to complain about.

But sitting here, admittedly with less than complete information and even less to do, some thoughts come to mind. It would appear United, as a company, wasn't entirely prepared for this eventuality. One can understand that the company can't have extra crew or even staff in airports it doesn't normally fly to, but this is taking too long: a diversion to Macau isn't so unimaginable that it shouldn't have shown up in someone's scenario planning at some point.

The lesson for large companies is to be prepared. One bad experience can wipe out the cumulative goodwill of many good experiences.

All we know about Macau airport is what we are relayed by the pilot, but it also seems that a certain lack of preparedness, or possibly interest, holds sway there as well. Perhaps congestion keeps passengers on planes for hours at Chek Lap Kok as well, but I haven't heard of it.

One assumes the Hong Kong authorities would be thrown into a frenzy by fears of what the resulting complaints might do to Hong Kong's reputation, a fear that isn't so far quite as much in evidence here in Macau.

One fellow traveler rebooked from the tarmac with a handheld internet device her missed connection directly out of Macau. It took some time before ground staff were persuaded to stop giving reasons why this was problematical and to actually help her make the flight, something made more difficult by the apparent lack of credit card or ATM facilities.

An international airport does not itself an international city make. Hong Kong facilities are not always perfect either, but although I sometimes wonder at our almost neurotic desire to keep ahead of the Joneses, it is also true that Hong Kong seems to feel genuine distress when visitors, voluntary or otherwise, have less than ideal experiences, leading to concerted attempts to resolve problems.

It's now 1.30am. We've been sitting in the plane for over an hour waiting for "paperwork." Why this couldn't have been sorted in the seven hours prior to reboarding is beyond me. No one in this multinational airline knew that paperwork was needed?

We arrive back at about 2.30am, almost 10 hours late.

My final reflection on the day is that frontline staff, those that actually deal with customers, are one of a company's most important assets. In this case, the impeccable crew on the plane seem to have been let down by less-than-entirely-adroit departments elsewhere.

And the next time - in an election campaign or a discussion of economic woes or a minimum wage - that someone complains about "the workforce," I'll remember that this is just another term for "people" and that it's people that ultimately make all the difference in the world.