Leaving on a Jet Plane (well, "Left on a Jet Plane")

I was going to let the whole thing die but, I promised. And a promise is a promise.

R and I flew to the UK was on Zoom Airlines, a rather nice charter service. The seating was 2-4-2 so we paid a little extra and booked 12A/12C, a "two-fer", in both directions. Row 11 in beside the emergency exit and has massive leg-space but no underseat storage.

The flight itself left Robert L Stanfield Airport (in Halifax) at 11:45PM. As an aside, I really wish we'd stop naming airports after people and go back to naming them after places. I'm not saying Mr. Stanfield wasn't a good man and a great politician.

The flight was to be about 5 hours and a bit, with time changes, phases of the moon, the stock market and Britney Spears' mental health worked into the formula, we were to arrive at Gatwick Airport at about 9:30AM local time.

I'm very old fashioned and the last time I flew that late (Vancouver to Toronto many years ago), the flight went as follows:

• we were seated
• the plane took off
• they served a high-calorie snack and coffee was "available if you like"
• they turned the lights WAY down
• we flew through the early morning
• they woke us
• we "freshened"
• we landed

Apparently, we've come a long way (baby.) We followed the first three steps above and, for me, things went horribly wrong. Maybe it's the internet generation that needs to be constantly entertained but they announced they would be showing not one but two movies. (Don't ask me which movies. As I'd been awake at 5AM that morning, I had now been awake for 17 hours and was more than a little punchy.)

There are some of you who'll say "Baby! Skip the headphones, close your eyes and sleep." Good theory but the jet was equiped with several display systems - giant one on the centre bulkhead about 4 feet from me. 10in one on the bulkhead about 3 feet in front of me.

The strange part, as the other half will attest, I usually sleep very soundly. "Like the tomb."

I tried to sleep but could not find a position where the flickering of one of the screens didn't wake me just at the drop off point. (Didn't someone use torture like this during one of the world wars?) After an hour or two of attempting, I stopped bothering.

We flew through the night. Eventually, I saw the orangy-red glow of sunrise ahead of us and the southern end of the UK slipped below us, all shiny and green and new. (OK, "new" to me.)

We landed 15min early (which proved fortuitous as I'll explain tomorrow) at Gatwick. We left the airplane and joined a line of approximately 800 people at Passport Control.

It was 9:45AM local time and I'd been awake for just over 24 hours. BUT, I was in England for the first time - the excitement of that alone kept me going... for a while.

Tomorrow, day 1 in London.