One of the best TV adverts of recent years featured a businessman whose
Boardroom rivals were clearly out to get him, big time. To make absolutely
sure, the conniving bastards had booked him on a transatlantic flight, Club
Class. "He'll be tired. He'll be hungry," they gloated, obviously convinced
the
experience was akin to incarceration in a Japanese POW camp. Yet their
scheme was thwarted. Despite suffering countless deprivations, including
a
reclining seat, gourmet food, and fine wine, said businessman turned up at
his
meeting, straight from the airport, fresh as a daisy and ready to kick ass.
But just how a realistic a scenario is this? Is it truly possible to fly
a West-East
"Red Eye", and then do ten rounds with Chris Eubank?
It depends. Note that few of the major airlines ever actively promote their
Economy Class (or "the bear pit", as a representative of The World's Favourite
described it) in the same way. This suggests that, for comfort's sake, should
you ever find yourself destined for it, the wisest course of action is to
upgrade
out - if you can.
"Generally, we only ever upgrade when a particular section is overbooked,"
says a spokesman for Virgin Atlantic. "Then, priority is given to members
of
our frequent flyers programme. After that, we'll choose people who look as
if
they'll blend in with the others." So unless you're sure Metalica or Motorhead
are on the same flight, don't expect to upgrade to First Class dressed in
worn-
out leathers and Doc Martins.
Thereafter, in-flight comfort and your physical shape on landing are largely
down to you. The usual advice is to avoid night flights and to take regular
naps. Eating correctly, particularly before take-off, also plays a major
part.
Stick to high protein foods and lay off carbohydrate-rich meals like pasta
or
bread. These will only speed up your metabolism and make you restless. And
baked beans are strictly verboten.
"A small fart that can be emitted noiselessly or even stifled completely
at sea-
level will often fumigate an entire cabin at 20,000 feet," warns a First
Officer.
"Bear in mind that the lower pressure makes the intestines, and whatever's
in
them, distend, sometimes painfully."
Feet, too, expand, so - foot hygiene permitting - it's a good idea to fly
shoeless. But don't let your feet get too cold, lest they drain blood from
your
other organs. A stewardess recommends insulating them with brown paper
bags, secured loosely round each ankle with rubber bands. "Don't use sick
bags," she cautions. "They're laminated, so moisture can't escape." The result
could be an airborne version of trench-foot. The same stewardess also
suggests an innovative use for the inflight side-salad: "Eat everything except
the cucumber. Save the slices to put over your eyes to stop them drying out."
Dehydration is the main problem, exacerbated if you try to do an
Oliver Reed with the inflight bar. Stay off sherry and cognac entirely. They
contain headache-inducing histamines. Wine, however, can be beneficial -
in
moderation - so long as it's washed down with an equal measure of still water.
Indeed, it's a good idea to travel with your own litre bottle of the stuff
rather
than pissing off the cabin crew by continually buzzing them for refills.
Another problem is the enforced inactivity. The usual consequence is simple
lethargy, which can often be alleviated by a scalp massage. Some airlines
employ onboard beauticians to administer them in Business and First Class.
For the Economy minded, a battery operated Pifco, used correctly, should
produce similar results (provided its motor doesn't interfere with the cockpit
instrumentation).
Long-term immobilisation can also, albeit quite rarely, lead to deep vessel
thrombosis, causing heart attacks and even death. The mortality rate is highest
in Economy, where the restricted legroom impairs circulation. To maximise
survival chances, take regular walks around the cabin. With bags over your
feet, cucumbers on your eyes, and a vibrating attachment fixed to your head,
no-one's likely to get in your way. Nor try to engage you in banal banter,
for
that matter - one of the other banes of long-haul flying.
Finally, what of the latest scientific innovation, the anti-jetlag pill,
now
available from some health food stores? Most of them contain a substance
called melatonin. This is produced naturally over a 24 hour period by the
body's pineal gland, and regulates normal sleep and wakefulness states. These
get confused when you cross time zones, producing the typical jetlag
symptoms. Normally, for each time zone you cross, it takes one full day to
recover. However, artificial melatonin is supposed to halve this time, "fooling"
the body into believing that it's not in fact 5.00 am, but 9.30 pm, and time
to
party. A doctor recommends caution:
"I for one won't take it. This is because it's marketed as a food supplement,
not a drug, and therefore hasn't undergone the normal rigorous studies and
approvals procedures. A safer way to force-feed the pineal gland's release
of
natural melatonin is simply to go on a sunbed for half an hour after your
flight."