My pre-flight ritual would be taking public transport to the airport, preferably the very last one going. Even if I've never ridden it before, it's notoriously complicated and I don't speak the language. Even if there's the offer of a lift. "No, no, it's quite all right."
More accurately, my ritual is the mad dash for the departure gate. I'd prescribe it to anyone.
On the flights you actually do catch, the relief is fantastic. Not even spin-cycle turbulence, insomnolent babies and the judgment of an entire airbus that you've just delayed can stop you sleeping the sleep of the righteous.
— Thomas Bywater
I know most people hate airports. I love them. They're the promise of new adventures; the guarantee that soon you'll be somewhere else. So I'll get to the airport early enough to take my time getting through passport control and security, browse the duty free shops and, depending on the time of day, drink a coffee or glass of wine while doing some serious people-watching.
For longhaul flights, I've got my on-board ritual down pat — in fact, I'm so relaxed about flying I'm usually snoozing before we've even taken off. Then I'll watch movies until after the food service has been and gone, followed by a trip to the bathroom to change into lounge-wear and brush my teeth. Then it's eye-mask on, ear plugs in, and I'll generally sleep until they wake me up for breakfast. Yes, sorry, I'm that person. I can sleep anywhere, anyhow, no matter how cramped my cabin experience. What I'm not good at is packing. No matter how many times I travel, I still can't get stuffing my suitcase down to a fine art. But I'm happy to keep practising.
— Stephanie Holmes