Flying alone never stops being a mix of fear and adventure.
What kind of person will sit next to me? Will we talk (not just polite-small-talk, but an actual conversation), and realize we have all sorts of similarities? Or will he/she be the sort of fidgety, panicked person who makes a neighbouring seasoned flier feel nervous? What will I entertain myself with for six hours? When’s a good time to awkwardly shuffle down the row to use the loo? How many books should I have with me (I always bring too many, but they’re like security blankets shoved into seat pockets)? Whose hand will I hold if I feel afraid?
I’m grateful that I’ve had good experiences with flying alone so far (including an instance where I wielded the power of a quivering lip and puppy-dog eyes to get upgraded to Business Class and get 16 kilos of excess baggage through), but with every new instance, I can’t help but have my mind overwhelmed by the whats and whos and hows before I even step on board.
