Jetsetter

This was one of the smoothest travel experiences I've ever had, and if I wasn't still recovering from a cold I'd say it was darn near perfect.

I don't recall the first time I ever flew, because I was just a baby. Apparently we went to visit my dad's family in New York. The next time I flew was also to New York, as a kid or young teenager. I don't remember how old I was, just that my brother and I saved up money for a long time to help buy the ticket. Singular. The ticket was reserved under the name of A. Cherry. He flew up solo, and later that summer my grandparents drove me up. They spent a few days there, drove my brother home, and I flew home pretending to be Anne. I remember that trip home pretty clearly, as I nearly got stuck on a layover in Memphis. Our plane couldn't land right away due to weather, and we circled for a long time. Finally, we diverted to Nashville to refuel, and of course we couldn't deplane. We went back to Memphis and of course everyone missed their connections. I stood in line with everyone else (no preferential treatment for minors!) and by the time I got to talk to a ticketing agent I had missed the last flight to Baton Rouge. When the lady told me they would pay for my hotel room and book me for a morning flight, I nearly had a meltdown. I asked them to check other Louisiana airports, and she got me a flight to New Orleans that was already boarding. This being the days before cell phones were widely in use, I begged her to call home for me and update my parents on the situation. Apparently she did, because they were there waiting for me on the receiving end, where of course I had no luggage. It made one of the earlier flights to Baton Rouge and beat me home!

I also remember being positively entranced by the clouds. I even wrote a poem about seeing them from above, and being in them. Somehow I expected them to seem more solid. I'm sure the poem was awful, but the feeling never left me.

After I moved to college, I became a much more frequent flyer. I still do quite a bit, especially since I am now an extreme long-distance commuter. I've had all sorts of crazy experiences - both good and bad - and it has gotten easier over time. I still get restless and anxious before I fly, but no longer panic in planes and rarely have motion sickness (I just have to stay hydrated.)

We had some wonderful views of the Alps today, and from my side of the aircraft I even got a brief glimpse of Paris. The clouds were pretty incredible, which is what caused me to remember that poem from so many years ago. We banked once on the approach to Philadelphia and I had a bizarre sensation that we were going to crash into the clouds as if they were snow. Then I started thinking about how barren and lonely it must be on the South Polen. Then I told my weird brain to shut up. :)

Today, flying on the tail end of a cold, I had no problems with the takeoffs but struggled mightily with pressure changes during both descents. Coming into Tampa, especially, was painful. I don't know if it was because my medicine had worn off, I was really tired, or what, but the descent seemed a lot longer than normal. I am happy to be back on the ground, for a host of reasons, and hope to be fully recovered by the time I fly home!