Flying long and short hall with two tiny humans and a husband.
Firstly we aren’t mad, we didn’t up and decide to fly to Australia on Boxing Day via Dublin for shits and giggles. My baby brother lives in Melbourne with his lovely Australian wife and they haven’t managed to get over to the UK to meet P yet. With Houdini beginning school in September we felt this was the time to down neat gin and bravely book flights to the other side of the world.
We planned for hell on earth – or hell at 30,000 feet should I say. Anything less than hell was going to be brillopads in our eyes.
We also flew to Dublin from Bristol before flying back into Heathrow to fly out to Melbourne; again not for the sheer joy of it but because it was nearly £2000 less to fly from Dublin to Melbourne than Heathrow to Melbourne! Yep odd huah!? And that much of a saving was worth tackling two small children in a an airport for a day in our eyes.
I’ve kept breastfeeding P way past the point I thought I would purely to have this ‘fail safe cry stopping method’ on the flights and it worked. I fed her taking off and landing and this stopped any ear popping action, for both P and all the other passengers. I considered packing gifts to give out to those sitting near us incase all hell broke loose. It turns out all I needed was my bangers and the ability to endure the odd nipple chew from time to time when P lost concentration/ got board/ just fancied making me squeal.
Houdini had a look on his face of nervous joy for the whole 39 hours of traveling; never before had lollipops and iPads been in such unlimited supply!
Normally I attempt to be a good parent and limit the TV/ iPad action; although from previous posts everyone is aware I’m a fan of bribery with an iPad when required.
I did fuck up slightly however not getting my shit together and booking children’s meals on the flights, beef in black bean sauce with spicy noodles isn’t on the menu often for my tiny human so he didn’t eat a lot other than lollipops for the whole journey. Oh and a Macdonalds at Hong Kong airport during our wait between flights.
Here are the points of note from our outward journey:
* Getting stopped at security because Calpol comes in a 120ml bottle – thanks a fucking lot Calpol we really needed you at 30,000 feet and we had to bin you off! – thankfully the phenagun was in a 100ml bottle…
* The cries of “Daddy I really need a poo” so loud those in the posh seats could hear, as Houdini had headphones on whispering wasn’t happening.
* Having a wee whilst a one year old sits on your lap as you have no where else to put her – one hand everything is one of my new key skills – this takes having a wee at work on my own with the door shut and locked to a whole new level of luxury!
* Being amongst hordes of beautiful designer shops in Hong Kong airport with 4 hours to spare until our next flight and being unable to step a foot in one of them 🙁 the closest I got to a designer shop was when we ate MacDonalds outside Chanel.
* Halfway across the world the bribery stopped working. Houdini had worked out by this point we wanted him to be quite far more than we wanted to take the iPad off him/ deprive him of yet more sweets/ make him sit next to someone else (like anyone was going to swap, and he could see this from the looks on their faces) At this point intermittent howling commenced when he didn’t get his own way ?
* They serve gin on flights, whenever you want one you can have one, and there is no judgement about the time of day you’re having one. At altitude it seems any time is gin time. Especially when you’re juggling two tiny humans and a husband who can somehow miraculously sleep through all child plane action going on! Better still at 30,000 feet they pour like they’re having a party and someone else bought the booze no single measures here!
All in all it wasn’t terrible, we were very lucky. Regardless, for the moment my brother got to meet P for the first time and Houdini was reunited with his best friend I’d fly twice as far for twice as long. Needless to say there were tears, big fucking happy tears.