Transpacific

I’ve flown on Boeing 787 Dreamliners enough now that I’m starting to forget how many times that is. Scoot to Perth from Singapore, when I was amazed that such a new plane could have such worn out, knackered carpets (that is the lot of the maximally-utilised low cost carrier fleet, I suppose) and back again, and then I think Business class on United, which is a whole other thing. So I suppose at most that’s four times in the past. I’m still tremendously excited about the ability to dim the windows electronically, and I don’t understand why there’s a cigarette holder fitted inside the toilets – I know that must be because it’s standard equipment, but given how many planes there are, wouldn’t it be cheaper to omit the cigarette holder and only fit it to planes where the airline doesn’t ban smoking?

Still, I was lucky enough to score a window seat and have nobody sat next to me, so there’s space to stretch out a bit. The guy sat in the aisle seat is the type who doesn’t deign to get up if I need to get in or out, so I have to wait for him to shift his legs to the side and then clamber over him. Surely that can’t be comfortable for him? Is he doing it on purpose because he wants me to shove my crotch or bum in his face? Should I ask him? Etiquette at 33,000 feet above the Pacific is hard, in old planes and new.

I can’t sleep, which is a bit annoying. I almost conked out at 11am, which would have been 7pm local time, but then I would have woken up at something ridiculous like 4am local time, and then had to stay awake for 5 hours before we touch down. So I’ll have to hope I get through this some way or other. I’ve watched all of Spiderman Homecoming (the best Spiderman in years), read a bit of my book and tried to sleep, but no success yet. Maybe I’ll watch something really boring to get me through the next nine hours…

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