I’m a light sleeper. Here’s how I manage to sleep on a plane

If you’re one of those people who falls asleep the minute you’re settled in your seat on a plane – congratulations.

You’ve won the travel lottery.

I am completely in awe of this skill. To be able to ignore all the shuffling of other travellers as they take their seats; the kerfuffle of people cramming luggage into overhead lockers; the constant announcements from the crew – it’s a gift.

There’s an art to falling asleep within the cramped chaos of a packed plane.Credit: iStock

My husband is one of these people. He’s asleep as soon as his backside hits the seat. For him, a flight is relief, the opportunity to take some much-needed rest, siphoned off from everyday concerns.

For me, it’s the opposite. Taking my seat on a plane brings on feelings of excitement mixed with slight anxiety, which creates heightened senses. My brain picks up all the engine noises, passenger disturbances, announcements, and the movements of flight attendants as they go through the aisles.

Even the drone of the plane’s engines once we’ve hit altitude doesn’t soothe me.

I’m a light sleeper on the ground. What hope do I have in the sky?

But over the years, through hit and miss, I’ve refined what works for me. There’s no magic bullet, just a combination of things from earbuds to the right neck pillow. But there are some flights when my body clock is so out of sync, or there have been too many disturbances, that nothing seems to work except for a strong sleeping pill.

I’m not a fan of sleeping pills. I rarely use them on the ground, except the first night or two of reaching a destination, and even then, I prefer something milder like melatonin.

Like all drugs, they have side effects, from insignificant to more serious. None is safe without checking with a doctor first.

Lee Tulloch’s neck pillow of choice: FlyHugz.

I’ve had countless conversations with other frequent flyers about their drug of choice. It’s a popular subject. Take the wrong one or the wrong dose, and you could still be zonked long after landing, or wired and wide-eyed.

Some travellers swear by over-the-counter antihistamines, others find herbal relaxants with kava or similar ingredients enough to give them some shut-eye. (I wish.) Some pop a Valium.

For the record, I’ve settled for Imoclone, which has a hypnotic quality and is effective for a few hours. But I only take half a tab. Again, it’s doctor prescription only. And you shouldn’t drink alcohol with it.

There’s another factor to consider. You can knock yourself out with a sleeping pill for a few hours, but it’s no good if you wake up with a crick neck.

I’ve experimented with many sleeping pillows over the years, and currently I’ve settled on Flyhugz, which rolls into a tight roll for carrying and gives good support to my neck. (Don’t buy cheap copies which have no Velcro fastening.)

Switching from a softer neck pillow to one that comes up quite high to my ears has meant I have to rethink my noise-cancelling system, another essential for sleeping on a flight.

My trusty, several years-old Bose headphones now fit awkwardly with the new pillow. (Another tip: when the cushions on your headphones disintegrate, buy replacements cheaply online.)

I’ve swapped them for Bose Quiet Comfort Earbuds II, with active noise-cancelling, and even though no device completely cancels ambient noise, they cut out a lot of it, and I can Bluetooth the buds to a deep-sleep playlist on Spotify, which gives me further tranquility. They are so comfortable, I barely notice they’re in.

For a less pricey solution, many people use silicone earplugs (the foam ones never work for me.) I buy Otifleks Organic Beeswax Earplugs from a local pharmacy and find them the most effective, if a little sticky.

A good eye mask is also essential. They must be a dark colour and the 3D ones which don’t put pressure on the eyelids are quite good.

I always bring my own blanket, which doubles as a shawl or scarf, and warm compression socks that I wear with thicker socks over the top. I invested in good cashmere which covers a multitude of dressing sins.

I’m often seated next to passengers who have brought nothing with them, relying on the airlines to provide essentials. Don’t. You barely get a warm enough blanket these days.

Whether I get 40 winks or only 10, it depends on things like turbulence, but my final piece of advice is this – don’t take that sleeping pill until the flight is well under way.