Late

One of the questions I get asked quite often is "what really happens down route?". Well, I usually fly only short-haul routes so I really can't comment on the regular night stops that most people in the business get. After all, what people are really asking is "is it true that the girls go wild and the rooms get trashed?", it is yet another stereotype that has somehow crossed over from hard rock band members to professional pilots.

I do get the odd night in a sunny destination and mostly the stops have consisted of good food, a post flight drink and lazing by the pool in the morning. I haven't had the rock and roll late nights or the swooning hangovers and I imagine it is for two reasons. One, I don't usually drink that much, I know how to have a good time and have had moments where I realise that still drinking 13 hours after the first sip could result in a painful morning, but these are few and far between. When I was 18 I went to my "leaver's ball" at school and the night started as you would expect, great dress, fabulous hair, a date with a matching tie and beaming parents. It ended very differently though. I had a glass or two of wine, and I am being honest when I say one or two, and celebrated with a glass of bubbly, as soon as the bubbly hit my stomach something strange started happening.

I felt like the marquee was really stuffy and hot, so went outside for air, my dress felt tight, my skin sore and suddenly I was finding it hard to breathe. I can remember in perfect clarity every second of what happened next, because I was absolutely certain that they would be the last moments I would experience. I collapsed in the bushes, just beyond the light coming from the marquee and I could see people coming and going from the entrance but could not reach or shout to them. My lungs felt like I was breathing in acid and my body felt like it was on fire. For some reason my brain instructed my body to crawl and I don't remember consciously thinking of a destination just the fact I knew I had to move. I managed to get to just beyond my boarding house before a friend happened to walk past and carried me into the house. The school had the forethought to put qualified nurses in every house and I have never been more grateful! My parents were roused from their beds and I knew everything would be fine. I vaguely remember my dad sitting with me most of the night but between hyperventilating and passing out, I can't fix on much else. My date for the night was one of my dear friends and to this day he has still not forgiven himself for not going outside with me when I said I needed some air.

Despite the outcome, I think somewhere it has buried a seed inside me that will always stop me going to far, even though it was not brought on by excessive drinking, but an allergy. I have never had it tested, but some days I can feel the symptoms start and it can be from a drink that I happily drank before but one sip has a vastly different effect on another night. I am always aware of this and if it ever happens then I just don't continue for that night. I don't feel like I am missing out, I have as much fun sober as most people do drunk but have less of a headache in the morning!

The second reason the night stops are mostly tame is that I am still fairly new with the company and don't speak the language. The crew all try and include me, snippets of english every so often but it never lasts very long and before you know it they are chattering away and you have no clue what about. Luckily for me, two nights ago I bumped into a really good friend who also happened to be night stopping and that made for a much more interesting night! A little more to drink than strictly necessary at dinner followed by the ransacking of mini-bars and a room party. Who knew that filling a hot-tub with bubble bath could be quite so entertaining, although clearing up the overflowing bubbles in the morning was not quite as funny. The 3 hour walk we went on in the morning gave us plenty of time to put the world to rights and I flew home feeling like I had offloaded a lot of pent up stress.

I arrived back to Scandinavia with enough time to re-pack and get 4 hours sleep before I caught my flight to the UK. It is GREAT to be home and see S but, as always seems to happen, he has had to go to work so I am once again alone for the evening. 'Friends' who were supposed to come around to keep me company haven't, without even a text to let me know. If I wasn't so tired I could probably muster the energy to get annoyed but as it is, this lonely heart is off to bed. When I wake up, all will be right with the world as S will be beside me once again.