I wrote, a few weeks back, about the fear of flying and my experiences of it. I also wrote of my determination to overcome it, something on which I am still working. Anyway, this weekend I took to the skies for a quick break to Monaco for the Historic Grand Prix and I wanted to write about these flights, if only for my own benefit of documenting the experiences.
I flew from Gatwick to Nice on Thursday evening (8th May), returning via the same route on Monday evening (12th May), both aboard one of BA's smaller jets (A319 and 737 respectively). Flying out, we had the benefit of the Club Europe experience, enjoying the fancy BA lounge at the airport and sitting in the more spacious four rows of seats at the very front of the aircraft. And the luxuries continued in flight with a full hot meal and a full compliment of drinks to match. It was 4 rows from the back for the return flight ...
The pre-flight nerves kicked in with about 24 hours to go. The thought and the fear of flying was going 'round and 'round my mind and it became increasingly difficult to control. Even a day in the office preceding the evening flight did little to calm the mood. The anxiety reached it's peak about 90 minutes before the scheduled departure, just before I dove into the security queues, with the usual denial that I could even go through with the short flight. At times, I was close to tears. One valium and a short while later, I was finding it a bit easier to relax, even encouraged by a view overlooking landing planes on the runway and the safe termination of numerous adventures into the heavens. Lots of deep breaths and happy thoughts helped too!
The breaths and thoughts continued aboard the aircraft where, being Club Europe, we were among the first to take our seats. This meant I could do my utmost to acclimatise to the unnerving surroundings and work hard to relax and stay calm. In my experiences, the fear of flying is at its peak at two points - first, on boarding the aircraft and, second, that moment when the pilot gives it the beans and demands full power from the jet engines. Though boarding was typically nerve-racking (the point of no-return #1), having had the chance to settle on board a bit meant I found take off (the point of no-return #2) unusually relaxing. I stayed relatively calm and even deigned to look out of the window to see the dusk covered Sussex countryside fall away as we reached for the skies. I remained encouragingly and unusually calm for most of the flight, employing various approved relaxation techniques whenever the little demons in my head dared to remind me that I was in a tin can, miles off the face of my home planet. The recipe was not to think too much about where I was and to try and sit back and relax in a positive frame of mind. The fear of flying is purely psychological afterall. Reading helped, as did Bach and a nice G&T. I think the fact it was only 88 minutes long and at night also played a significant part too. We went up. We came down; landing with what my flying partner described as an unusually heavy thump on French soil. Heavy or not, I didn't care. Terra firma was mine once more. The post-flight relief is something I've experienced and enjoyed before - one of the perks of having the fear of flying. I found the flight out, then, particularly encouraging and promising, describing it as one of my best. Never before had I achieved such relaxation aboard a soaring jet and I was pleased that I not only knew how I could control the gremlins in my head, but also that I could work to overcome them. Maybe I really can conquer this fear.
Sadly, such encouragement and motivation was somewhat dented on my return flight. Being stuck in cattle class, right at the very back (the most uncomfortable seats) didn't help; neither did the queasy stomach to which I had awoken that morning - probably due, in no small part, to the blistering Monaco heat of the previous day and the constantly beating sun with which it was accompanied. The nerves came much later this time, not really kicking in until we were sitting by the gate and with less than an hour to go, but when they did come I found that - both before and during the flight - I could not relax particularly easy and even where I did achieve relaxation it did not stick around. Even the glass of vino blanc enjoyed at 35,000 ft did little to help. I was on edge the whole way back, gripping the seat for most of it and fighting a constant battle in my head. Whenever I managed to calm a little and pick up my book, it took less than a minute for it to be discarded again, in preference for the arm rests. Closed eyes and the St Matthew Passion pelting my ear drums was the prevailing habit on the way back. But, I suppose, I can take one thing from the more difficult return flight. I was constantly aware that the fear was in my mind; psychological. And, looking back, the most common feeling I experienced during the 600 mile journey from Nice to Gatwick was not of fear but of frustration. Frustration that I was finding it difficult to conquer the feeling of fear in my mind. Yes I was afraid for much of the flight, but I was also aware that it was my mind that was creating that fear. I was just disheartened that I struggled to overcome it. Cue relief on landing once more.
And so, post flight thoughts? I am, I must say, looking forward to taking the Virgin Fear of Flying course on 6th July. I am still trying to see the positives - particularly of Thursday's flight - and I have shown that I can relax and stay calm (albeit on a short flight). Hopefully the professional help of Virgin Atlantic can teach me to do that more successfully than I managed on Monday evening and with longer term success. I desperately want to overcome this fear, though I know that if I can't I am resigned to a life either defined by holiday-time terror or by never seeing the world. The prospect of the former would probably make me choose the latter. Overall, the experience has been good. I flew, I survived and I showed that I could relax, stay calm and make it through. But that relaxation has also shown itself sometimes difficult to achieve. For me, I want to get to the point where I can sit and wait for a plane, board that plane and fly with as much ease as I travel by train. I'm not there, but hopefully I'm getting there. I think. Besides, the chances of dying in a plane crash are 1 in 11 million. Scared or not, I suppose I'll always get there.
Thanks for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment