Jetlag

PhillyI’ve never suffered from jetlag before, or rather I’ve never travelled so far east or west that my body clock has reacted badly to the time difference.

There was a touch of that when we flew out to Vegas, of course, as we chased the day, setting off around 9am and arriving at 6:30pm. This caused me to wake early for the first few days and caused me to be generally out of flunter, although no great hardship.

The return leg threatened a different story though. Mrs P warned me that I would be feeling pretty awful – headache, wooziness and wobbly legs being the worst of it, but the jetlag hasn’t really materialised.

In the event, it hasn’t proved to be too bad. We were up at 5am having been up until after midnight and so were a little bleary eyed as we finished the packing, then repacking the cases so that the two each came under the 501b (23kg) limit.

Philly Control TowerWe left Vegas at 9am and landed in Philadelphia five hours later having flown through three time zones. The transfer time was longer than the outward journey and the four hours we had going spare meant that we could grab a bite eat which we did at the Marriott Hotel.

This may have helped since the stopover gave us the chance to recover and generally relax before joining the onward flight to Manchester.

The entire journey was uneventful apart from being stopped by security as we checked in baggage. In Vegas it was the laptop in one of the walk-on bags that triggered the alarm and it had to be run through the x-ray again. (The signs didn’t say that laptops had to be passed through the scanner separately, at least none that I saw.)

At Philly it was a piece of a bubble wrapped gift that raised suspicions and had to go through again.

I appreciate that there is still the risk of terrorist activity, but it does seem to have grown into an inconvenient industry with the numbers ofd staff involved and the investment in equipment, like the all over body scan at Philly that must have cost a fortune.

And it does feel a particularly sanitary process since shoes have to be removed leaving a faint odour of sweaty socks lingering in the air. Not me, I hasten to add, since I was wearing Crocs.

The flight was otherwise uneventful, apart from the long walk from tbe domestic to the international terminal which seems common practice at every airport you visit these days.

I’d even download to couple of films to help while away the journey – Mission Impossible: the Ghost Protocol and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy.

Be that as it may, I’ve still been awake for more than 24 hours and my eyes are beginning to rebel and close whenever I try to relax. We hoping that our bodies hold out until at least mid-evening before we give in and go to bed.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

5 comments… Add yours
  • Jennyta 11th May 2012

    All worth it though as it sounds as if you had a great holiday.

    Reply
  • Roberto Pudding 12th May 2012

    I wish I could be as nice as Jenny and simply say “sounds as if you had a great holiday” but I have got a wicked streak in me that is drawn to your Crocs, your naff film choices and your contraction of Philadelphia… but “I am capable of controlling myself” – as the bishop said to the actress.
    Welcome home Mr P! Just in time to see Man City win The Premiership.

    Reply
  • Trevor Rowley 12th May 2012

    No such thing as jet lag, Mr P. After you’ve worked a three shift system (7-2, 2-10 and 10-7) your body completely loses the will to carry on, you don’t know if you’re in this world or the next and flying about in aeroplanes would be just sheer heaven. A typical Saturday morning, finish the night shift at 7-00am, jump on the bus with the rest of the exhausted zombies and home for a slap up breakfast (good old Mum). At eight o’clock, straight to bed for about three hours of zzzzzzzs. Later, you can just about ease your shattered body out of your pit as you try to prise your stiffened eyes open and contemplate the fact that your mouth tastes like the inside of a tram driver’s glove. Off to Maine Road to watch the Boy Blues with the rest of the footballing hordes and just about staying awake until you’re shoved in amongst the rest of them under the Kippax roof (if that couldn’t wake you up, nothing could). Sleep was inevitable on the journey home and with enough time left on Sunday to contemplate the early morning shift on the Monday. Come on you Blues!!

    Reply
  • john 12th May 2012

    welcome to my nursing shift world…. jet lag EVERY week!!
    I am with jennyta.. but puddings comment made me smile!

    Reply
  • Mr Parrot 12th May 2012

    Thanks for all the sympathy guys. Well Jenny anyway. Not that that was what I was looking for, but for the record, I worked out that we had five hours sleep out of 55!

    Reply

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