As I boarded the Boeing 747 I was directed to my suitably squashy blue chair,
The sweet aroma of aeroplane breakfast wafted and lingered in the air.
The passenger aisles were abuzz with accents on a notably global scale
But to a helpful steward just down the row I heard the familiar sound of an Englishman’s whiny tale.
At 10am I had already lost track of the emotions I’d felt in one day;
Excited, exhausted, teary but glad at the prospect of moving to the US of A!
Feeling wonderfully exhausted my semi-turbulent slumber was as enticing as the destination to which I was heading
As the plane left the ground I tilted my head back, nestled in my complementary polyester bedding.
Upon my awakening I was pleasantly greeted by a seemingly appetizing aeroplane lunch;
Chicken casserole, wine, peaches and cheese with some crackers on which I could munch.
Little did I know how this deceivingly pleasant meal would shape the rest of my journey;
For three hours later my stomach was not feeling so right and became a little more than churny!
Once, twice, three times I asked to be excused past the aisle seat to dart to the loo,
After trip four the evidence was clear and for the next twelve hours I knew what would ensue.
A helpful airhostess aided my wobbly exit from the plane, requesting an assistant and wheel chair.
I was wheeled straight through customs to border control-and yes- I was also sick there!
In the taxi; three times, once viewing the New York skyline- it most certainly did not deserve that review
After two hours of bad traffic and highway side-stops, we arrived at my new home and once again I was ready to spew.
By 10pm I was deflated and could not believe how one little casserole had menaced my arrival
So when the spewing finally stopped I vowed to write this post of testimony to my New York Sicky survival!
