Being jammed in an airplane for 12 hours is a trial that many have not experienced, but also a luxury that many desire to. On a recent trip to California, I took one for the team, and spent half a day of my life kilometres above the ground, eating mash and watching a limited selection of Disney movies.  

I'm lingering in the magazine shop, waiting for the loud speaker to calm my impatience. The flight has been delayed, and even though they give you free wifi and wear nice uniforms, the passengers of LA126 feel a collective sense of displeasure and resentment at the current situation. 

The whole squad is now on the aircraft, even the late passenger who is currently struggling to fit his carry on into the overhead locker. (Feeling slightly guilty about my failing to pack light, and my consequently oversized hand luggage.) Everyone on the plane is waiting for the safety video with boring anticipation, and a sense of responsibility that comes with tiredness and airport delays.

My isle seat didn't give me a great view of the takeoff, but life is about gratefulness, and I'm grateful for only being in close proximity with a stranger on my right side. It also means, when it's time to nap, I won't have the awkward dilemma of which way to face (having a person on either side makes this difficult and daunting).

Sadly, it's not the first time in my life I've said this: I'm stoked for this late night beef and mash. Travelling through the air somehow entitles you to eat 2x more than you normally would, and because 50 other people are doing the same thing, the peer pressure is huge. It eases the guilt if everybody eats irresponsibly.

It arrived. It came quick, and it came good. It came with Kapiti lemon cheesecake.

Panicking because everyone else has chosen a movie to watch, and I'm still clicking through the categories, currently in between 'Musical' and 'Subtitles.' There is a lack of Tom Cruise (in general) and Friends, so I'll predictably spend another ten minutes deciding, start watching one, and then un-decide.

The last three hours have been a blur of mild turbulence, more drink trolleys, and trying to sleep but being hopelessly distracted by the seat in front having a wild game of Pacman. I'm regretting not saying yes to that orange juice, as the lights are dimmed and my thirst is not enough motivation to unwrap my blanket. I probably won't make it to the end of the isle before the seatbelt sign goes on anyway.

I feel like I should update you, I am still sleeping and I don't want to be woken by the person in the middle getting up to go to the bathroom, but regrettably this happens, and I don't unwrap my blanket, I just kind of stand there, waiting in unwavering silence for them to return.

I hate going to the bathroom on airplanes. Just hate it. It's small,  it's dimly lit, and when you flush - it's SCARY. I've decided to endure it only because landing is three hours away and if I don't, I'll have to keep turning down the free orange juice. 

Landing time. I'd like to thank those on board that made my flight first-rate - the corresponding air hostess, who maintained fresh lipstick for 12 hours and brought me extra blankets, the pilot, for keeping us safe and frequently interrupting with turbulence warnings (though there was none), and row 26, for being a hoot and using excellent teamwork to clear the tray tables of rubbish.  

I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to fly to L.A., which is a very decent place to visit, one I'd recommend for a holiday or just to see Miley Cyrus's home. Either or.

Madison xx


  1. I hate going to bathrooms on the airplane too! I always go before and after a flight hahaha

  2. OMG I loved your post ! Keep going !

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  4. I loooved this post! Your writing is amazing X


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