I’ve booked a flight
Posted by J Russell
And now I am panicking.
I really don’t like flying at all. Back in the day I used to be ok about it, more or less, and when I had to book a flight I was fairly price sensitive and that was it. Now I have all kinds of things I have to factor in to the decision to buy a ticket: air safety records, age of fleets, flight route, type of airplane (which I forgot to check and am kicking myself), passenger reviews, number of stars given to the airline by Skytrax and so on and on.
It turns out that trying to book a flight keeping all these criteria in mind is impossible and leaving making the booking any longer was causing its own particular variety of stress and anxiety: the no-choice-of-carrier-or-route-or-price angst. I couldn’t book last night when I found a suitable British Airways flight because I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink, so I thought I’d leave it until this morning. By this morning I had checked the top ten ‘safe’ airlines and BA wasn’t in it, so their direct flights to Chicago were out.
I flirted with Swiss Air and Lufthansa, the advantage of the latter being that I could fly from Frankfurt to Detroit, but the main question was: could my nerves bear to fly In The Wrong Direction straight out of London? The answer is no. I don’t think they can. If I have to go transatlantic, which in my head is called flying over scary water, then best to get on with it.
So, I’ve got a flight. The price was ok – the downsides are that I have to take an internal flight on the outbound leg and the customer reviews seem to complain that the front of the cabins are cold. Damn. When I booked I was offered a choice of seats: window, middle and aisle, left and right, and tail, middle or front. My brain flipped flopped about. Where is the safest place to sit statistically in a plane? Tail? Rather than hold up the booking process any longer by doing comprehensive research into this, I decided to take the fatalist’s approach and selected ‘No Preference’.
Now all I have left to worry about is having to wear a coat in the cabin and the size of the plane on the internal flight.
Please, please, please don’t let it be a propeller one.
Last time I flew I was armed with valium. I swear it did not touch the sides of the terror, although it did have me in tears at Marmaduke, a film about an animated dog.
I thought this time, I’d try two Stugeron and a stiff drink if needed. Hopefully that will take the edge off…