Yeah, the flight was grueling. I had really hoped I would sleep. Trisha had even brought some valerian root pills because I had told her I’d read they would help us sleep. She may have slept more than I did–I’m not sure because she sat behind me. That in itself was weird, because when we chose our seats online, it appeared that she would be in front of me. We looked at the seat map wrong. We were at the rear of the plane, not at the front, like I had imagined. I’m not very experienced at this.

Anyway, we both wanted window seats so we could lean our heads against the window and have more side space, but the last two rows have only two seats and they are spaced further from the plane’s wall, so you really couldn’t lean against the wall comfortably. Trisha tried…

I have to mention my seatmate, who was a strapping young man named Ethan who was on his way to Paris to visit family. He was such a gentleman. When he saw that I was struggling to get my carryon suitcase into the overhead bin, he stood and did it for me. Later, when I was looking for the port on the back of the seat for my earbuds, he pointed to it. I’m sure he got a good laugh out of my effort to get a drink out of my water bottle. Who knew a built-in straw would cause pressure inside the bottle that would cause a geyser when opened? Trisha said she saw me trying to wipe up the water that spewed onto the back of the seat and the plane’s wall. I had to use my zipper hoodie to soak up the water. I was afraid the flight attendant would scold me! (Note to the wise: don’t bring a water bottle like these with a popup straw. Cabin pressure turns them into water fountains!)

As hard as I tried, I got very little sleep on the plane. Even with the lights dimmed, earbuds playing sleep music, a comfy neck pillow (which I discovered works much better for me turned sideways), and valerian root in my system, I just could not sleep well. The plane’s constant roar and bumpiness just would not allow it. I must have managed a few winks, though, because next thing I knew, Ethan was wadding up trash and the flight attendant was approaching with the drink cart and a trash bag.

“Did I miss breakfast?” I asked Ethan. The flight attendant heard the word ‘breakfast’ and said, “We’ve already served it.” Okay…not, “I’m sorry, can I get you a drink?” Nope. I asked for a Coke and ate a granola bar I had stashed in my personal bag.

My nine-hour overnight flight was a beating, but nothing would get me down. I was headed to Scotland! Stay tuned for tales of finding our gate at Heathrow, getting lost going through security, and male and female toilets…

XOXO