For the first 24 years of my life I knew only the experience of long sea journeys. Sitting at the back of the ship watching the churning propeller waves spiralling out below as a 10 year old, is something I can still replay in my head on sleepless nights over 50 years later. The great P&O liners of the 1950s were at that time the only form of mass travel available until the 1970s when the arrival of the Jumbo 747s transformed everything. Even so, in 1972, the journey I took from Australia to Europe was by sea 'though this time in an Italian ship. Trapped on board a vessel full of former migrants returning to visit their countries of origin, all of whom seemed to be suffering sea sickness crossing the rough seas of the Great Australian Bight from Adelaide, was unforgettable. Almost missing the time of departure at the Fremantle stop over was probably not accidental. After that, it got worse with ten turbulent days to Cape Town across the southern Indian Ocean and a disturbing first encounter with the then full blown apartheid South Africa, followed by another twelve days confinement up the African coast to Tenerife. We are not talking luxury cruise conditions by the way – the cabin was on the waterline, the neighbours partied all night and the children never seemed to sleep. Relief came in Malta and then Messina and best of all Pompei.
It was not until over ten years later that I could face the prospect of another long haul trip and then only as long as no boat of any kind was involved.
From the mid 1980s, the journey between England, my birthplace, to Australia where I grew to adulthood, was taken by air. I have lost count of the number of trips taken with family or alone, sometimes as many as three times in a single year. Most have been via the Middle Eastern route stopping off in Singapore, Hong Kong or Bangkok but a significant number have been via the USA stopping in Los Angeles or San Francisco. Those early air trips are seared into memory so scarred was I by the sheer physical constraints of sitting between larger bodies spilling over into what was surely the smallest possible space a female of no more than 50 kilos and 5 ft 1 inch in height could fit into? Clambering over snoring sleepers to join the queue to the one working toilet was a blessed relief. There seemed to be no limit to the number of gin and tonics, white and red wines followed by brandy and chocolates I could consume and remain awake, unable to take in a single word of the book I had carefully chosen for its guaranteed gripping story line. Somehow, after the very first novelty trip in 1985, the pleasures of travel by air eluded me time and time again…
In such a past, the so-called ‘entertainment system' was delivered on a tiny screen suspended ten seats in front and usually consisting of a single movie shown once at a specific time with no opportunity to pause while you wrestled with the packaging of your tasteless meal, also single choice only except for vegetarians who were usually fed first.
I could go on about the many deprivations endured during a typical 12-14 hour incarceration but any one who is old enough to remember such things has probably wisely given up air travel and the newer generations will not believe it anyway. From the vantage point of 2016, what is certain is that conditions have decidedly improved particularly when it comes to in flight entertainment and food. Today’s long haul traveller is spoilt rotten by comparison- and yet somehow it does not always feel that way. Talk to other similar travellers and how often does a look of suppressed panic pass over their faces as they recall their experiences? At the end of the flight as the plane taxies to the terminal, the head of the cabin staff cheerfully hopes you have ‘enjoyed’ your flight but for many of us the overriding feeling is sheer relief at having reached the end.
And yet this feeling is not universal - there seem to be people who arrive with brains and bodies in good order. And more to the point of what I am about to say, nowadays I can speak as one such person. There are, I now realise from my experience of getting it completely wrong over many years, a set of factors that together can make all the difference to whether you leave your long haul flight in a near moribund state or instead, you feel reasonably refreshed and ready to face the new world into which you have just been plunged.
How so? What is the secret? Is there a recipe? My next entry for some thoughts about this.
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