When you hit the jackpot, even flying economy class can be a joy

This week I hit the jackpot on a long-haul flight – I had a spare seat next to me.

I was seated in a row of three on an A380. I usually try to engineer the empty middle seat by selecting an aisle where there’s already someone in the window. In a plane that’s not full, middle seats are filled last, so someone being squeezed in next to you is less likely.

Avoid the squeeze.Credit: iStock

This strategy works less than half the time, though. On the forward part of this journey, there was a very large man in the window and an elderly woman next to me. I felt sorry for the woman sandwiched between us, who was travelling alone and had difficulty getting in and out of her seat.

If someone must have the middle seat in economy, when you’re travelling as a couple it’s a bit less uncomfortable – you can lean on each other, hold your partner’s water while they get up, breathe in familiar germs.

I try to keep the stuff I bring with me down to the bare minimum, but even so, a book, my headphones in their case, my own blanket, neck pillow, water bottle, small handbag at my feet, plus extra blankets when the plane is cold, makes a heck of a tangle when there’s nowhere to put anything (seat pockets are a joke).

Hence why the spare seat is a joy.

There are simple joys to being on a plane in economy where the seat back screen is generous, the flight attendants are truly helpful, and the toilets are cleaned regularly.

Unfortunately, there are few joys when it comes to the transport aspect of travel these days. Which is why trivial comforts seem like major victories.

I like to sit at the front of the plane, but I have many friends who choose a seat up the back, knowing there’s a better chance of getting a couple of seats, even a row, to themselves. A row to yourself is definitely a joy.

Another joy is being seated on the aisle next to people who do not get up for the entire flight. I worry about their health, but in terms of my comfort it’s wonderful if I don’t have to get up repeatedly to let them out.

There’s a joy to having your meal arrive first, not last, so that you still have a choice of mains, or you don’t suffer from FOMO when the entire cabin gets their meal before you.

There are simple joys to being on a plane in economy where the seat back screen is generous, the flight attendants are truly helpful, and the toilets are cleaned regularly.

There’s the joy of having plenty of room for your carry-on bag in the bin directly above your seat.

There’s the delight of having cute babies in the rows around you. I know people dread crying babies on a flight but I find them entertaining and their adorable smiles uplifting.

There’s the joy of being on time when boarding and arriving. If you’ve ever been delayed on a tarmac waiting for clearance to take off, just the fact of the pilot pushing off from the gate on time is a relief.

There’s the joy of getting off the plane ahead of others, although I don’t know why because you’ll meet them again at the suitcase carousel.

One of the biggest thrills is watching your suitcase bump along the carousel in the first batch of luggage. I’m positively ecstatic when this happens.

And when your home airport is almost empty and there’s no line at customs – bliss!

As it is when there’s nobody waiting on the taxi rank outside.

Then there’s the greatest joy of all – the elusive upgrade. Few of us ever get one. And as airlines cut their budgets and minimise their perks, even those with status find it increasingly difficult to use points for an upgrade.

A long time ago, dressing well might have got you one, if the stars aligned. And gate agents were sympathetic to pleas of injury, honeymoons and birthdays. Not now. They roll their eyes and hand you your row 76 boarding pass.

I wish I could offer sage advice about this. The one random upgrade I got in the past several years was because someone needed my bulkhead seat and there was nowhere else in economy to put me.

Like most passengers, I need to shuffle onto the plane in my group, struggle to find a place overhead for my carry-on and sit for hours with my feet on my handbag, tangled in wraps, blankets, cords and water bottles.

Getting to your destination safely is the ultimate joy, though.

How do you find the joy in flying? Leave a comment below.