My First International Flight

An experience to remember

(I wrote the following after my first international flight to Cancun, Mexico in 2019.)

I had never flown before. I had never been inside an airplane, large or small. I saw them on television, and my friends told me about them. I had dropped my children off at airports numerous times. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. But I had no idea what it really felt like to travel 150 to 200 miles an hour down a runway, take off and soar through the air at approximately 500 miles per hour for four long hours. Not to mention the descent and landing.

My husband and I arrived at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport at 4:00 am on a Saturday morning. The hotel shuttle dropped us off and told us the Frontier desk was right inside the door. Anticipation set in as we zig-zagged through the waiting line. My stomach said I was nervous but excited. We followed the line and repeated what everyone else did. Our bag was checked and weighed, and our boarding passes were placed inside our passports.

She pointed to the right and told us to go to the Security line. We stopped at the first Security line and were told that this line was only for people who had a precheck printed on their ticket. We showed him our tickets. We did not. We proceeded to hike down the hallway to the last Security gate. Once again, we stood in line and zig-zagged our way to the front.

We reached the front of the line and were called to come forward. We presented our tickets and passports to the TSA employee and were told to proceed to the next security line. We took off our shoes and coats and placed them in a plastic bin on a metal conveyor belt. Our personal bags had to go in a separate bin.

We proceeded to walk through the metal detector while our bags were x-rayed and scanned. She looked me directly in the eyes as I stood there. We passed inspection with no problems, put our shoes and coats back on and gathered our items. The next step was to find gate A10. Of course, it was clear at the other end of the airport. I began to tell myself that I packed too much. The small bookbag on my back was getting heavy and my legs were getting tired.

We arrived at gate A10 and still had 45 minutes left before boarding. There were several people waiting, and most of the seats were occupied. We found two open seats near an older gentleman with long white hair in a ponytail. I assumed the woman sitting beside him was his wife. They were also traveling to Cancun for vacation. I walked over to the large window and watched an Airbus A321 pull up to our gate. It was long and skinny. I counted 41 seat windows.

It wasn’t long before the announcement to begin boarding was heard over the intercom. We were in zone 3, seats 32E and 32F. Zone 3 was called to board and we made our way to the counter. He stamped our boarding passes and placed them back in our passports. As I entered the tunnel, the cold air immediately hit my face. I was so glad to be leaving the arctic cold weather of Ohio behind for a few days.

I stepped out of the tunnel and across into the plane and looked down the hallway. I couldn’t believe how long it was. It smelled fresh though. The air was chilly, but refreshing. We made our way toward the back of the plane to row 32. There were three seats on each side of the narrow aisleway. We placed our bags under the seats in front of us, sat down and waited patiently. I sat by the window.

The plane door closed, and the captain's voice came over the intercom. He told us the plane had to be de-iced before we could take off. The very second the plane moved, I felt dizzy. The plane pulled away from the gate and made its way to the de-icing pad. Why did I feel so dizzy?

The crew sprayed the plane with deicing fluid for several minutes. It sounded like a car wash as the sprayers went over the top of the plane. I was like a child looking out the window. Once the de-icing process was complete, the plane taxied out to the runway and within a few short minutes the pilot announced to prepare for takeoff. My dizziness did not subside as the plane continued to move.

The engines roared to life. I would not have been able to hear Rich if he did decide to talk to me. The roar of the engines was deafening. The plane leapt forward, and within seconds we were traveling close to 200 miles an hour and lifting off the ground. My stomach must have thought I was on a roller coaster, but then it felt like I was falling. I squeezed Rich’s hand. He squeezed it back to reassure me.

The butterflies didn’t know whether to float effortlessly in my stomach or fly around in circles. I giggled at first, then instantly felt worse. The plane leveled off, and I felt nauseous. After several minutes a headache began pounding in my temples, and a cold sweat settled on my forehead. I wanted to look out the window and watch. I tried. I took a few pictures. All I could see were clouds and small patches of land passing by, and it made the symptoms worse. I closed the window, took some Dramamine (which I luckily decided to bring along just in case) and closed my eyes for the rest of the trip.

I probably don’t need to tell you about the descent and landing in Mexico, other than to tell you that I was glad to step off the plane and into the airport.

The trip back home to the states was similar. I will fly again someday, but never without Dramamine in my bag.

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