I use to love flying…then I went to New York.
Coming over the Atlantic my plane was hit by turbulence. Now I hear you say “Hold on, a bit of shaking in the plane is OK..” Well, this was like flying over Berlin in 1943. Oxygen masks were on the brink of flying down from the ceiling, babies and adults whimpering, while the flight attendants huddled by the in-flight ovens, praying for salvation from whichever patron Saint looks over them.
I got off the plane shaken, but not stirred, more excited to hit the Big Apple. Although nervous on the flight back 5 days later I didn’t think anything more about it until I had to travel from London to Derry on RyanAir. If you know Derry Airport, you fly in over the River Foyle, with the landing lights starting in the shallow flows. The pilot banked heavy and we came into a bumpy landing…all my fears came back.
Flight after flight got worse, until I started to panic walking on the plane, checking the pilot over (did he look in good health?), the mechanics under the plane (what are they checking?) to the flight attendants (what are they hiding behind all that make-up!?)
Then it happened. I couldn’t even face travelling to the airport…my mind was made up, no more flying for me. I have high blood pressure and a kidney transplant, so I just didn’t need the pressure in my life. I love the sea, trains and I love driving…so stopping flying wasn’t too much hassle.