I’m currently sitting in the boarding lounge of an airport, waiting to fly to New York to attend a family wedding my spouse is officiating in the States. And so, naturally, I’m thinking about the hell that is air travel.
Sometimes people seem to think being in a long-distance marriage is glamorous, what with all the jetsetting. And certainly, I’m blessed to be able to travel when I need to (and, pre-pandemic and maybe again someday, when I want to). There is glamour in certain elements of travel – I have a go-to minimalistically chic “uniform” I usually fly in, for instance, consisting of a slinky black slip dress, black leggings, a black cashmere cardigan and black leather boots, and I’ll admit I never tire of that feeling when you step out of the baggage claim hall and into a familiar city, happy to be back.