Chicken, fish, cold instant coffee and a meal older than the Queen, mix in grumpy tired pax expecting you to make their seat larger, recline further and remove the gum from their tray table.
Here I was thinking my inflight days were now only those of bloody Mary’s and a movie marathon. I couldn’t have gone further left of field! RIP “bloody Mary” – I am now tackling a wriggling eight-month-old who finds it hilarious to grab the backs of people’s heads and woohoo-ing on take off. On second thought, I will take a stiff bloody Mary!
Don’t be fooled – this game isn’t always a slam dunk. I’m the most daft traveller, always losing or forgetting something…. Dozens of times, I’ve left the passports – yup, the most important travel accessory. Husband is always impressed!
But we make it, and soon enough we are a heard of cows, off to the milking shed through dozens of queues removing half of your clothing, shoes and pulling apart your luggage. Oh, and all the while you have a baby on your hip!
I’m practically always running for the tin can – forget indulging in Duty Free or stopping off in the lounge for us, we are racing. It is a mad zoo! People scrambling for their tickets, juggling their duty free bags and neck pillows, pushing their way through. God people, anyone would think it was the last ship off the titanic. Chill!
………And yet, I am writing this from my seat onboard a flight from Tokyo to Honolulu. I am stuffed – it’s 2200 and past my bedtime.
Offspring and I, loaded the pram and chased a train, onto a monorail, then we somehow made it onto this plane – solo! I feel like I have just completed an ironman triathlon. Anyway, I hit the jackpot and have a row of four seats, and a sleeping baby. Just waiting on the wine to come down that aisle, then I will be set.
How do we do it and stay sane enough to keep at it?
We are loving it. Seriously! Every adventure feels like an accomplishment.