I hate flying. In planes, of course. I am sure if I had the self propelled power of flight, well I would not be complaining, hell, I probably would not be blogging! I have never been in a helicopter, so I shan’t malign those contraptions, but I hate flying in planes.

When I fly I can suffer from vertigo – even hours after landing, anxiety, even vomiting. Like a cat in a crate on a car trip, if I could, I’d yowl and tear at my surrounds. I HAVE had flights where these symptoms were minimal or even absent, but they are few and getting further between.
I am not sure what the actual problem is. I do suffer from motion sickness in cars occasionally, but when I am flying it sometimes seems different.
Then there is the physics of flying. Sure, I am positive that someone smart knows what they are doing made that billion tonne metal object with humans, food, luggage and let’s not forget the fuel, and has magically made it lighter the air, or something.
Sure. Dear hubby

But the inner part of my brain that looks at all the academic stuff and still says, huh? cannot grasp the concept of flying, and I hate it the whole experience.

Some say that it’s because I have not done long all, that all my trips are 2 hour hops, so you don’t equalise or harmonise or something. This makes some sense as when I flew to and from Bali a few years back, I do not recall any real issues.

This is a relief because I want to travel, domestically and internationally. I am planning a family holiday to New Zealand in 2015, and places like Russia and Dubai are on my list.

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