This was going to be a fun flight. I’d already teased the party of three lads (two of whom who looked like twins) by ‘guessing’ correctly that they came from Carlisle. I was not, however, psychic. I had discovered this information on a luggage label attached to one of their bags.
When the man sitting next to me moved I now had two seats to myself. Better still, across the aisle were three empty seats in a row. I asked the air steward if I could move over there for the night. She asked whether I might prefer an entire in-flight bedroom.
Just off the main cabin was a large room that contained two small single beds, alongside a double. Apparently my father-in-law had already turned down the double – I had no idea why – but I wasn’t prepared to miss out on the possibility of a good night’s sleep between Canada and the UK. I unpacked my little case, popped my toothbrush and toothpaste by the tiny basin, and settled in for the night.
There were, however, numerous flight delays and often when I looked out of the window I could tell that we were hardly moving at all. At one point we lost some passengers in the snow beneath us. I hoped that none was TPR.