Windy End to The Adventure

We sleep in till 8:15. I look at the bedside clock and yell, "oh no, we've missed the bread, it'll be cold!" Rod dashes to the door with only a few minutes to spare before all warmth was lost. Thank goodness this is our last day of bread - I think I gained two pounds in three days! It's back to low-carb next week.

A lazy morning and we pack up to go.

Before we're off we take a stroll on the beach and sit on some rocks in the sun. We have a bit of a walk along the sand and see daulphins off the coast. A perfect 'goodbye.'

Back to the 'Great Barrier International Airport.' I see our pilot/bag lady friend again - checking people in. . . .

Turns out it's a pretty windy day and flights are late coming/going from the island. I have a bit of a tendency to get a 'pukey' on bumpy flights, so I'm getting slightly anxious about the flight. More so as I've left my motion sickness pills at home. . . . hmm, not a smart move.

After an hour delay, we pile into our 8-person aircraft and get going. At one point during takeoff the plane went sideways as a result of a wind sheer. It was at that point I knew I was in trouble.

We were up into the clouds and most of the flight was a white-out. This makes it a bit difficult to 'focus on the horizon', which is my rule when getting car-sick, sea-sick or air-sick. No horizon means there is a problem.

In and out of the clouds - - QUICK, find the horizon. Damn, it's gone.

In front of me is a mother with her two teenage girls. She was moving all over the place taking about 50 photos of clouds! After each one, she leaned over to show her daughters 'how it turned out.' 'They all look the same, dammit!,' I want to say. Her movements were adding to the 'background noise' of my sickness and it wasn't pretty. I wanted to throw her stupid camera to the back of the plane, but I refrained.

More clouds, more peeps of the horizon....

When, finally, we descend and any hope of seeing any horizon is now long gone. And, happy, happy, we now are circling the airport in a HOLDING PATTERN.

I know Rod is looking at me - - I can feel his eyes in the back of my head and know that HE knows I'm feeling really sick now. I check for the sickness bag. It's there.

I'm now getting that sweaty, clammy feeling that happens when you know you're going to be sick. I'm praying, 'please God let me see land' over and over and over.

Now, I really feel like I'm gonna puke. I DON'T WANT TO - - I've never actually had to puke in an air-sickness bag. I've been very close, but never got quite there thank goodness. I suddenly was staring at the white sack in that back seat pocket. 'How do I do this?," I wonder. Do I bunch it up around my lips? What if a power puke, will I be able to hold onto the bag? Will it leave a horrible stench in the plane and cause a chain reaction of more pukers?! I'm going into a bit of a puke panic - - all the while still praying for sight of land. PLEASE DEAR LORD!!!!!!
The hot sweats are coming fast and strong now. I know I have precious little time left. To top things off the pilots are young and cute and I know I'm going to be the 'older lady' who puked in their plane. This sucks!

One last prayer to the Almighty as I ready to grab the bag and FINALLY, land! Oh, God, I think I can make it! Yes, I do. Taxiing, deep breathing, wiping my brow, calming down, cooling off....

I look back at Rod and he's smiling with a knowing look. I just signal to him with my thumb and first finger an inch apart meaning, "I was THIS close to losing it!" He chuckles out loud.

A windy end to a great adventure.

Heather

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