Seat Layout

Day 1 – The Journey

I have embarked on a tour of the States for three months to see friends and work a little (yes I have the right visa) and get out of the Big Smoke that is London.

The adventure started with a stay at the Sofitel Gatwick.  The rooms are adequate but if you think anything might be going on in Gatwick of an evening then think again.  The pubs are shut; the bars are open next to the hotel and what they lack in atmosphere they make up for  in price on the drinks, because the pubs are shut. Nonetheless a good night’s sleep was had. I never like to travel hung over or worse drunk and this is from past lessons learned.  Nothing is worse than feeling like vomit and your delayed plane journey consists of a bumpy ride with the obligatory child kicking your chair.

This time I had the wonderful option of travelling by Business Class.  This means two things on British Airways; no child kicking your chair repeatedly whilst the parents ignore its happening and you also  get the chair that reclines into the bed. The bed is an amazing and comfortable and highly lazy option, it makes any journey fly by (pun intended.)

I was facing an odd soon to be pensioner red jumper wearing (hers with pearls) couple who were looking directly at me.  We all had our feet up and I could tell neither of us wanted to be looking at each other’s faces.  I was looking at them, they were looking at me, a divider window was between us but being English no one wanted to press the button and be rude. So I did what anyone would do and waited for the woman to go to the bathroom.  I pressed the button which didn’t work.  The window came up and then came back down.   I styled it by looking ahead and pretending that it hadn’t happened.  The husband ignored it too.  She pressed it on her return and it worked.

I reclined into the laziest recline possible.  Not quite the bed but like a sofa.  Pulled up a film to watch and relaxed but unfortunately in front of me were two parents either side of two children as the seats in the middle are a cluster of four.  To get to the middle the father in front of me had to keep getting up and stepping over my feet.  The wife to see the husband had to do the same.  This wouldn’t have been a problem had they not wanted to do this at least twenty times with both having the balance of let’s say zero.  Each time without fail they kicked my chair.  The manna that I was expecting of a no kicking zone ceased.  They always mumbled sorry, but they didn’t stop.  I looked down and mumbled its ok but refused eye contact which is the universal phrase for it’s not OK.  But in the end with my eye mask on and trying to have one almighty snooze they kicked the seat for one last time at which whoever it was got to see blindfolded woman shoot up with hands out in an asking fashion grunting Ughh’ at them.  It didn’t stop but it did calm down after.

The rest of the flight was without incident.