Look, I’ve blanked out most of the flight for everyone’s benefit, but suffice to say, it was pretty shit. Adelaide-Doha was manageable, once Bitti was asleep I tried to sleep but was woken what seemed like every two minutes. The hostess woke me first to ask if my sleeping child would like her dinner. Umm, let me see? Shall I wake my extremely grumpy child who has just fallen asleep four hours after her bedtime so she can eat a meal she’ll find something to hate about? Nah, I’m right thanks.
Despite finding a travel pillow that provides the post-whiplash neck support I need, it was still almost impossible to sleep. Bitti had the benefit of the Fly Legs Up device so she could actually lie flat, but do you think she bloody would? She seems to be allergic to curling up when sleeping and twice I woke just in time to prevent her kicking the elderly woman next to me in the aisle seat.
About ten hours into our first flight they served breakfast. Bitty received a small tray so laden with food that we could barely get to anything for fear of knocking the rest of it off the table. Qatar is very generous with children, less so with vegos. She ate only the croissant. I ate most of the rest 🙂 When we left the flight several people around us complimented Bitti on how well she’d behaved. She ignored them completely in typical Bitti fashion.
We hit Doha feeling slightly tired but sort of ok. However, things went south very quickly after Bitti found she desperately needed a drink of water but couldn’t drink from the water fountain without getting her face wet. Cue 45 minutes of wailing, culminating in a declaration that travel is the worst and we never should have left home. And that was just my conclusion.
The second flight Doha-Rome was considerably less easy. Bitti suddenly decided she was starving, and they came down and confirmed our special meals quite early, telling her the kids would get served first. Yes, first. But they failed to mention that meal service would be another hour off. So for an hour we had versions of ‘I’m hungry’ every five minutes until I was ready to murder a flight attendant. But when the food did arrive it was HUGE again. This time she ate everything except the fish cake. Then she tried to eat mine.
We did arrive in Rome eventually of course. And after another long wait in passport control, things went quite smoothly. Found the luggage immediately, found a toilet and caught the fast train straight into Termini. During that 35-minute journey Bitti, delirious with fatigue, spent almost the entire trip singing a song she’d made up about the number eight whose lyrics consisted of nothing but the word eight. Felt a little sorry for the woman sitting next to her, but as long as she wasn’t asking me when we would arrive I was happy enough.
All up, very successful hemisphere crossing. However, it does all leave me wondering when and how humans are going to replace economy plane travel because it just fucking sucks balls.
Two Little Travellers 