Fear of Flying!

Not long now before we depart for the far east and I have spent my day off doing some last minute preparation before we fly. I am working right up until we leave the UK, so today has been very busy, packing cases and popping into town getting some last minute shopping.  New pants and socks and an outfit for the plane, some stockings and 'Rescue Remedy' for the journey.

Now  I have never had this 'Rescue Remedy'  stuff, but it comes highly recommended by a colleague at work, who like me hates flying. In her words, a bomb could go off and you wouldn't care less after taking a few drops of this stuff under your tongue. Not sure if that was supposed to help my nerves or not, but the prospect of a bomb exploding on a plane wasn't what I wanted to hear.

My fear of flying goes all the way back to 1995 when Darrell and I first got together. In September of that year, we left Britain to start a new life together down under, spending two months getting to know each other and moving into our first apartment as a couple in the West Australian town of Fremantle. The flat was large and spacious, with  a lime green carpet and a serious lack of furniture. We used a crate for a television unit and an old cardboard box for a coffee table. These were great months, happy times spent together surrounded by those who were closest to Darrell in his home town of Perth.

Like most good things in our life, I had to leave Australia for the UK after a phone call from my ex-partner. I had a lot of unfinished business to attend to and had to finally deal with the aftermath of our departure, which wasn't the best of occasions and something I will write about in another blog.

The day I left Australia was emotional, saying goodbye to by new boyfriend; I literally had no idea whether he would follow me back or not, but true to form he returned a week later and we continued our twenty four year old partnership together. I am digressing slightly - I got to the airport in good time and said my goodbyes, entering the departure gate, waving to Darrell as I went. I was never keen on flying even then, but managed to find my seat and settled down for the journey ahead.

Everything seemed normal, the engines started and we began to taxi along the runway. I took a deep sigh of trepidation and remained thoughtful as the plane gradually increased speed. Suddenly there was a loud bag , I looked around out of the window as the plane came to an abrupt halt. A fire and engine failure, just before we were due to fly, it was the most scary moment of my life. We were quickly removed from the Boeing 747-400 and rushed back through customs as the emergency services rushed to the scene. A few moments later and we all could have been killed I'm sure; getting on a plane again the next day was gut wrenching. As you can see from my passport, I have two different departure dates during that period, a stark reminder of what happened on that day. However Darrell and I were given another few precious hours together, a moment that brought us even closer and a memory that will always be a part of our rather unconventional relationship.

Darrell and I have travelled extensively over the years and ever since that fateful day in 1995, I have been scared of flying....For a while every holiday we had planned, began with a plane crash, disappearance or disaster and I am not surprised by anything that  is thrown our way now. In fact the older I have got the more anxious I have become about air travel; this excursion to Asia, with its eight flights, using mainly small airlines, held together with rust and propellers that went out with the ark,  is playing havoc with my sense of well-being. To say I am nervous is probably an understatement, I am bloody petrified, so any advice, recommendations, tips and tricks anyone can give to help me through our three weeks abroad will be most welcome; I look forward to hearing from you; don't let me down!

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