In a previous blog, I talked about my experience learning to cope with jet lag on transatlantic flights. I want to share some stories with you that demonstrate some of the problems that jet lag can cause.
For some time, I flew from Houston to London and back twice a month. On one of my trips, I woke up on the plane as it was landing at London Gatwick airport marveling at how good I felt. I remembered thinking that I had finally conquered the cobwebs that seemed to invade my brain when I took this trip.
I took the train to London, finally reaching the Westminster Station and bounded up the stairs to say hello to Big Ben. My hotel was across the Thames from the station. On about my third step in the direction of the bridge, I fell flat on my face. My two hours of great energy also came crashing to a halt. The jet lag demons were just toying with me. I checked into my hotel and took a nap.
On another trip, I was going to a small town in Norway. To summarize the journey, I had flown overnight to Paris, waited two hours for a plane to Oslo, slept on the three hour flight to Oslo, rented a car and driven an hour and a half to the only hotel in the town. On that day, it was sixty degrees colder in Norway than it had been in Houston. I was definitely running on “automatic pilot”.
The hotel was easy to find. I parked and went to the front door. There was a lot of activity in the lobby. I pulled on the big front door and it would not open. I stood there for some time and no one came to my rescue. I tried the door again and it would not budge. People inside were noticing me but not reacting to my problem.
I must have stood there at the front door for twenty minutes. Have I mentioned that it was very cold? Finally, someone else wanted to go into the hotel. He stepped around me, pushed the door open, and went in. I followed. They are probably still talking about the American that couldn’t figure out how to open the front door.
On another trip to London, I zipped through customs with my suitcase (which seemed a little heavy) and boarded the train. It was just starting to leave, when I looked at my suitcase and noticed a lock on it. I immediately realized that I had someone else’s luggage.
I managed to get off the train as it started to roll, and moved as fast as I could, like a fish swimming upstream, against the people going the other way. When I got back to the customs area, I didn’t know what to do. I finally noticed a Continental Airlines baggage phone. I picked it up and someone answered for the airline. I said that I had a big problem. He said in the King’s English, “I so hope that this is Mr. Paul.”
He came out and took me through a door that went around customs. I met a lady who was standing next to my bag, which happened to look just like hers. I had delayed her for about an hour. She was nice about it. I hurried through customs again and encountered a group of American tourists who were waiting for the lady whose bag I had taken. Some of them were not happy. I did not stop to chat.
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Travel Tidbits-News You Can Use Regarding Jet Lag, Long Security Lines and Frequent Flier Miles
Ed is a Families.com Adoption Blogger. Read his blogs here.