Just two days ago I proudly proclaimed, "I love the long-haul flight to LA, I do. I love the peace." Well obviously someone wanted to prove my love wrong because I can assure you, I no longer "love the long-haul flight to LA" oh no. You see, the day before we left everything was dandy, sunshine and rainbows, organisation and excitement. It was smooth sailing. But then - I tuck myself into bed, with an alarm set for 4am, thinking I'm so exhausted I'll get a whole 5 hours in of sweet slumber. Reality: a sleep spent tossing and turning and attempting to deny the fact that I was becoming increasingly nauseous with each hour. 3am came round, oh god and the vomiting begun. With my head in the toilet, I am completely hyper aware that I'll be boarding a very long, cramped flight very soon. I imagine myself running down the aisle, with my hands clamped over my mouth, passengers watch on in fear. I feel sicker. This continues for another two hours.
Thank whoever for the fact that it sort of eased off before I arrived at the airport because lawd have mercy, I was not fond of holding a plastic vomit bag at the check in desk. Aeroplane clothing is tacky as it is.
Skip forward 6 hours and we're finally boarding our flight to Los Angeles. The nauseousness had eased and I'm ready to pop a few dramamine and surrender to the solid aeroplane seat. Yeah, no. Whoever warned people that often things don't go the way you imagined were smart individuals. Anyone who has flown long haul will relate. That shit can suck. Have you tried sleeping in a ball or with your head on a tray table? Blah. Or when you wake up and nervously check how long you've been asleep only to find it's been 45 minutes? Yeah. Well. We got there in the end. And the flight was semi-picturesque. And hey, it feels like home again.
I love LA, I really, really do. But you know what I love more? Tacos as the sun goes down on Santa Monica Pier.
We're here, we're semi-healthy and we're all going to bed because I'm not quiet sure how long I've been awake.
Tomorrow will be better. More stories to come, I'm sure. Hopefully none of them involve vomit.