We finally boarded the plane to Berlin a good 8 hours later. The delay ended up being a bit longer because, well you need a plan at the gate to board and fly. Nathan and I parted ways; him to the extraordinary sleeping pod and me to the back in the cattle car. All was good so far, cramped but good. That is until take off. The plane started moving and I immediately broke out into a cold sweat. I kept praying not to be sick. "Just don't throw up" was what I repeated over and over. Then I felt the watery sensation you get in your mouth just before it happens. I was able to calm myself down from the "on the verge" point, but the feeling never passed. The entire 8 hour flight was drenched in nauseum. I tried to watch the movie Water for Elephants. I read the book, which was wonderful, and had been looking forward to seeing. No go on the movie. I just felt too sick. When they handed out our meal, I couldn't eat it. Not that it was particularly appetizing on a good day.
Finally I set into a sleep that would pass 6 hours. When I woke up, my eye felt like sand paper and my knees even worse. But neither compared to the nauseous feeling in my guy. I walked around a little but sat down shortly after.
Snack time again. As many know, I love good bread. The smell of delicious freshly made bread makes my mouth water and all good memories flash back in a second. However on this particular day, nothing could be farther from the truth. The snack cart got closer and closer. Every inch bringing the buttery warm croissants my way. But with each step closer, the more sick I felt. Then it was there, sitting directly in front of me in all its airplane-goodness making my stomach curl.
I tried to go back to sleep and finally the crew came by and picked up all the remaining service items. Chairs and trays in the upright positions. Oh Lord - don't let me puke! It was if repositioning my chair made it worse. The terrible cold sweat returned. I scrambled for the "barf bag" and clutched onto it as if that action was what was keeping me together.
Descension brought more turbulence which if you already feel sick, only magnifies that feeling by a gazillion. Riding the famous Rattler roller coaster would have been more enjoyable. And as many know, roller coaster and I do not go together. Bad combination. As tight as I held the bag, I held my mouth tighter. I felt a heave and choked it back. Three more times I physically restrained myself. This whole time I'm sure the kid next to me was just watching and waiting for me to blow. Thankfully I disappointed him. Finally we were on land. I wanted to kiss the German ground I was standing on for the very first time. But I still felt terrible. Pale, shaky, rotten.
Nathan and I made our way off the plane and to customs. I GOT A STAMP IN MY PASSPORT! Woohoo! I was in Berlin! But all of it was tainted by the continued naseum. Our bags were quick off the plane, a good and a bad thing. It now meant getting in a taxi to go to the hotel. All the same feelings rushed back; cold sweat, dizziness, shaky and the horrible sick feeling.
We were eating close to to the hotel. Our taxi driver had no clue what kind of fare he picked up. But as I rolled down the window and started throwing up, he finally understood what Nathan was trying to say. "She's going to be sick. Pull over." NOT "look at the river." He sipped to the curb all the while anything in my path was getting dowsed. My sincerest apologies to the owner of a red scooter.
After about 8 upheavals and a little crying, the event was over. We made it to the hotel where I tried to hide my face in embarrassment and clean the side of the taxi. The driver was polite and tried to tell me not to worry, but my wounded pride won and I kept cleaning.
After a hot shower and some forced eating, I snuggled up in bed for a good nap!
Berlin - I'm here!
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