Is This the Flight I Finally Sleep on a Plane?
No. Unless I am dead from jet lag.
As the year comes to an end, I always get reflective about travel. Where I went. What changed. What I no longer tolerate.
One thing has become very clear over time.
I do not sleep on planes.
Every long-haul flight starts with the same lie I tell myself. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe somewhere over the Pacific, my body will finally give in.
It never does.
I sit there wide awake, hyper aware of every sound, movement, and tray table click. My eyes might close. My brain does not. At best, I achieve what I now call alert resting.
Neck Pillows Are Not the Answer (For Me)
Let us address the neck pillow fantasy.
They do not work for me. Any of them.
I have tried memory foam, inflatable, ergonomic, wraparound, and ones that look like a medical device. I have spent enough money to know this is not a solvable problem.
Worse, you then have to drag the thing through the airport, clip it to your backpack like a badge of false hope, and stuff it under the seat where it judges you for the entire flight.
So I stopped. I leave them at home. That alone felt like progress.
The Slightly Unhinged Device That Gave Me Cat Naps
Once I accepted neck pillows were out, I tried something else.
This foot hammock contraption: https://amzn.to/3MIqkj9
Is it graceful? No.
Is it subtle? Absolutely not.
It is annoying to get in and out of, and the Velcro is aggressively loud. The kind of loud that makes you pause and hope no one noticed, even though everyone definitely did.
And yet, it worked.
Not real sleep. Let us not get carried away. But it gave me something I almost never get on planes. Little cat naps. Ten minutes here. Fifteen minutes there. Enough to take the edge off.
At this point, I will accept loud Velcro if it buys me micro-sleep.
If Sleep Is Not Happening, Comfort Becomes the Goal
Once sleep is off the table, comfort becomes the strategy.
The goal is no longer to wake up refreshed. The goal is to land functional.
That meant figuring out how to sit for twelve hours without my lower back revolting.
Enter the most unexpected hero of my long-haul setup.
A portable travel Squatty Potty. Yes, really.
This one: https://amzn.to/48EgOWW
At 5'4", economy seats are not built for my proportions. My feet dangle just enough to throw off my hips and spine. I have tried bags, footrests, and creative stacking solutions. Most were unstable or annoying.
This one was different.
It is sturdy. It actually supports my feet. It took pressure off my lower back in a way I noticed immediately. Could it be better? Sure. In a perfect world, it could stand on its side for extra height. But even as-is, it made a real difference.
I used it on a twelve-hour roundtrip flight to Seoul, and it earned a permanent place in my backpack. It also fit in my backpack, which matters more than it should.
Redefining the Win
I am done chasing the fantasy of sleeping beautifully on a plane. That is not my travel story.
My travel story now is simpler.
Be less uncomfortable.
Arrive less wrecked.
Recover faster.
If that means skipping neck pillows, using a mildly ridiculous head holder, and packing a tiny travel stool, so be it.
Travel evolves as we do. Comfort is not indulgent. It is practical.
And if I ever do sleep on a plane, I assume someone should check my pulse.
