There is something quite surreal about being up in the air and as I sat gazing out of the window the only things that surrounded me were clouds. I had no idea if I enjoyed flying; I was 14 when I last flew. But here I was taking 4 aeroplane journeys in 24 hours and what a journey it was.
We began at Newcastle airport and thankfully all the children but my youngest were at school when the taxi arrived to collect me, holding back the tears and demands inside my head to tell me I could not go, I climbed into the back seat and off I went.
I had not packed my medication and I was starting to panic already, I had however taken 3 Tramadol, enough to sedate me enough to leave the house and last me around 6 hours. After we collected my mum and my aunt off we went to the airport.
Disaster, the anxiety kicked in full time when upon checking in they stated they did not have my boarding cards and I could travel as far as Heathrow and then sort it out there. As you can imagine every possible scenario was running through my head. I was not going, that much was simple.
Thanks to a very rude and money obsessed bar at Newcastle airport for £3.50 (the cost of half a coke) I could use their outside smoking room. I phoned the husband and cried. I had only been out the house two hours and already wanted to come home.
The flight from Newcastle to Heathrow was only 50 minutes and I sat with shaking hands drinking my cup of luke warm tea out of a paper cup and had a packet of peanuts, what is it with aeroplanes and peanuts, all flights gave them out, can you imagine chocking up there amongst the clouds?
Now Heathrow airport is huge and when I say huge I am not exaggerating, I was so pleased I had taken Tramadol to sedate me as my body was shaking despite the magic pills. Thankfully a lovely lady quickly and happily printed out my boarding passes and that was it, I had to face the reality that I was going.
I spent time looking around the duty free shops, with no smoking area I was not too happy with this airport, it seemed it didn’t like me either as I was searched and bleeped at security. Not as bad as my aunt who had her bag opened and was swiped for drugs; I had to laugh at her.
The flight from Heathrow to Hong Kong was a whopping eleven hours and I did not sleep one moment of it. Here I was with eleven hours thinking time and as you will know me and quiet do not go well with each other, time on my hands means thinking and I didn’t want to think.
I had no idea how I was going to manage 3 weeks away from my family, how on earth my mind was going to hold out but as I sat in the window seat watching the clouds sail by, I felt a sense of calmness. Nothing could touch me up there, I actually felt at peace with myself. All the dangers of the world were on the outside of the plane.
I had made a promise that I would enjoy this holiday, I would not allow my anxiety and fears to ruin it for me and for the most of it I kept that promise.
Landing at Honk Kong tired and somewhat fearful and excited we had a four hour wait till our next flight. Thankfully this airport loves smokers and there were inside smoking rooms everywhere. The Chinese all wore face masks; I had to laugh when they came into the smoking room and took them off to smoke, yet the moment they left on went the masks again.
The flight from Hong Kong to Sydney was a further 9 hours and 40 minutes and again I didn’t sleep at all. By this time I just wanted to get there. I was already so far out of my comfort zone, I just wanted to get to where I was going.
We arrived at 11am to the wonderful reception of a choir and huge Xmas tree and of course Santa Clause. I was starting to think I was hallucinating as the sun shone down and here was Santa, a little crazy I thought.
My Mum & Aunt With Santa Just After Arriving
The long and daunting flights were soon well worth it when my brother came into view, I hadn’t seen him in over 18 months and he was the reason I had travelled half way across the world, so to see his face light up made it worth it.
So here I was in Sydney …
