Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home
The furthest I’ve ever traveled from home was to Glasgow, Scotland.
My sister Cathy, our friend Betsy, and I drove from home to Kansas City, and stayed the night at a motel close to the airport. We were allowed to leave the car in their parking lot and take their shuttle to the airport the following morning. Their rate was much cheaper than KCI’s long term parking rate.
We arrived at Newark Liberty International four hours before the flight to Scotland was to depart. The airport staff took us to a private lounge with a television, free snacks, and drinks. It was pretty awesome…
Cut to the actual transatlantic flight. Cathy, Betsy, and I sat in a bank of three seats, Betsy at the window, I was in the middle, and Cathy on the aisle. The arm-rest on my seat with the lever to make the back recline was broken, the back would not lock into position. My choices were: lean forward with elbows on knees or lie in a supine position and stare at the person sitting behind me.
We asked the stewardess if there were other seats where we could sit together, or at least one seat that I could move to, but she stated the flight was basically at capacity. She was terribly sorry, but she had nothing to offer me.
It takes six hours and thirty minutes to fly from Newark to Glasgow.
Think about that.
Six hours and thirty minutes…
I would sit with elbows on knees for a while, then stand for a while, I even cried at one point, but just for a little while.
Fortunately, our time in Scotland was every bit as fun and exciting as we’d hoped it would be. Possibly the best twelve days of my life.
Even better, the flight home wasn’t even close to crowded and each of us were allowed to sit in a bank of three seats all alone. We had all the room we could possibly want or need.