first I was afraid, I was petrified...

Ok enough of that. Let's get down to the serious matter of talking about when I was very afraid. It's day 4 of Blogtember and this is an easy one for me. 

So a little background. When we were little we didn't go on fancy holidays to Majorca or Mallorca or any of the places most families went to. We weren't poor and we weren't wealthy, so our holidays were spent in England, usually in the Isle of Whight or some similar costal destination. But I never begrudged my parents for these holidays. In fact, I had some of the best summer holidays a kid could wish for. 

The whole point of this is that I never flew when I was little. We lived pretty close to Heathrow (planes landing almost on our house kinda close) and I remember going to the education center on one of those school trips that put learning into practice or whatever. I was so amazed watching these huge planes take off and land. And also a little curious about what it was like to fly. 

above a snowy Heathrow

I didn't take my first flight until I was 16 and it was probably the most afraid I have ever been in my life. The flight to Cyprus was just 4 and half hours but we had bad turbulence (just my luck) and I honestly thought I was going to be sick with every jolt of the plane.

I have somewhat found my flying feet, although I am still not the best flyer. But being an expat I think you have to adopt a different attitude.Because either I get on the plane to go see my friends and family, or I stay stuck on a little island miserable and homesick. 4 and half hours and a bumpy plane journey are totally worth it.