Staff Travel Nightmare - A Cabin Crew Rant

Tuesday, March 3 rd 2026

Well, it’s a new month, and with that comes a fresh opportunity to reflect - to share my trials and tribulations and offer you a quick peek into my bonkers life as an international air hostess. While I’ll admit that I have always found it quite cathartic to spill my thoughts onto the page from time to time, the fact that you’re here to read and listen to them gives me a small but satisfying sense of validation… because really, what’s a good moan if no one’s listening?

So, what should I moan about this month? Where have I been? What did I do?...

Well, there was that short hop to Turkey and back at the start of February, but that was uneventful in the usual sense. No big drinkers, no diversions or restraints. In fact, I always think it’s quite a peculiar flight to work. A curious mix of people, some chasing an all-inclusive luxury holiday on a budget and others who are popping over for a little… aesthetic enhancement shall we say. I swear, on the flight home, half the cabin was still nursing stitches of some description, or hiding fresh hair transplants under baseball caps. And as for teeth, there were so many people grinning at me with their brand-new veneers, I felt like I was in a piano showroom at times… If I’m honest, it did make me wonder if I shouldn’t book myself in sometime in the not-too-distant future - pull up the old jowls, give the girls, and the eyelids a gentle lift… perhaps a little BBL while I’m there -I hear they’re all the rage, although I’m not entirely sure what it entails…

And while I know that probably makes me sound terribly vain, in my defence I have to say this: ageing in this job is tough. You’re constantly flying with crew half your age. Girls who look exactly like you did when you first joined, with all that youthful energy you had back then too. And while you feel the same age as them in your head… well, the outside just quietly gets on with betraying you. And then, just when you’re having a perfectly lovely chat, one of them asks what year you joined the airline, and you tell them… and then they casually inform you that was so long ago that they weren’t even born. Well, I always smile and offer a neutral little “ahhh,” as if I find their youth utterly endearing - but trust me, that smile is as fake as 26C’s brand-new gnashers.

But what can you say? How do you politely tell someone they’ve just made you feel as old as the hills and that you’ll be Googling retirement homes the moment you get home? You know they didn’t mean it, but even so…

Still, there’s nothing to be done about it. Ageing, as they say, is a gift denied to many, so I try to embrace it. And there is one undeniable perk of being in the job this long - one thing us jurassics have over the newbies - and that’s seniority. The glorious ability to bid for leave, and at some airlines even trips, and win the best dates and destinations simply because you’ve been around since the beginning of time. And then there’s staff travel too, another seniority ladder I have climbed. That glorious perk of a “free” flight for your loved ones - at a fraction of the cost, with the possibility of an upgrade if the aviation gods are smiling – as long as there are spare seats available. So, while the United Kingdom drowned its way through a second solid month of rain, what did I do? I whisked my children off to South Africa on safari. I took them to the sunshine. I fed them steak while I drank excellent wine by the bottle. I plastered it all over my socials to demonstrate, quite convincingly, how fabulous my life is. And when those spare seats started disappearing on the day we were due to leave, I didn’t panic. Not even a flicker.

Because my children were sitting right at the top of the standby list. The captain had already said they could have the jumpseats if it came to it, too. And as I watched the quiet panic ripple through those below them - other crew who’d brought loved ones along - I’ll admit it: for once, I was thrilled to be a Jurassic.

Honestly, give me a badge that said Tyrannosaurus Rex and I’d have worn it with pride.

That evening, we all piled onto the bus to the airport - crew and eight companions in total. I dropped my kids at the desk, told them the gate number, and swanned off completely worry- free.

You see, my children have been flying with me forever. They’re 18 and 19 now, perfectly capable of navigating an airport without me hovering over them. They know where to go, how to get snacks, and crucially, how to behave, provided they’re actually getting on the aircraft. And that was all that mattered.

And they were.

Well… they should have been.

Until a tonne of god-damned fruit bumped them off.

Can you believe it? We departed with twelve spare seats. Twelve. Enough for every companion to travel comfortably. And yet, we got slapped with a weight restriction, which meant those seats went empty. Because apparently, a lethal cocktail of altitude, heat, and the urgent need to transport that fruit that very day meant they couldn’t be filled.

The fruit was perishable, you see.

My children, less so.

And since companion tickets cost less than cargo, it turns out the fruit won.

So, there we were, standing at the aircraft door with the captain, while the duty manager calmly explained there was nothing he could do. And then - woof - the door shuts. And off I go to London, while my children are left behind, grounded by a crate of mangoes.

A humbling moment, that. Realising that even a Tyrannosaurus Rex can be taken down… by fresh produce.

So, what did I do? Well… what could I do?

Thankfully, one of the girls had her mum and dad with her, and they promised to look after my two. But we were pushing back before I could even log into Expedia and book them a hotel. And so began the most surreal three hours of my flying career - a cabin full of people asking for drinks and complaining about the most insignificant things as if I might possibly care.

As if they expected me to worry that their screen had frozen, or that there was no butter on their tray.

I smiled, of course. Delivered my finest Oscar-worthy performance. But did I care? No sir, I did not. Because I had just effectively deserted my children on another continent, and while I was up front pretending to give a toss, I wasn’t even allowed to lock myself in crew rest long enough to get Wi-Fi and call them. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever exercised such monumental self-control in all my years of flying.

And then, finally, I got online. Finally, I managed to message them.

And back came a photo: all eight companions, sitting around a restaurant table, grinning like idiots and clearly having the time of their lives.

And just like that - it was all okay.

I got home, had them on the flight the very next day. They each came back with six new friends for life, and I came back with a hard-earned lesson: always have a backup plan.

Though, in my defence, in twenty years I’ve never needed one. Flights can go full - especially when we absorb another airline’s cancellations - but the jumpseats were the backup I’d always relied on. I thought being top of the list was as safe as it got. Turns out fruit ranks even higher than me, Susan the dinosaur, though. Who knew!

I think it’ll be a while before I risk staff travel again. I may need time to rebuild my confidence in that particular department - which is a shame really, because it usually is fine.

Well, the rest of the month was rather dull in comparison. I flew to New York on Valentine’s Day and witnessed an in-flight proposal, which was quite lovely, until he dropped the ring and it went rolling all the way into the galley and under a cart where all the dirt settles.

Ruined the moment just a little bit if I’m honest, as we fished it out and ran it under the galley tap.

I popped to Dubai for a quick catch-up with a friend, stocked up on Oud and got my diamonds polished at the Souk, and I did a one night Bangalore where I pampered myself and never left the room. All in all, it was an okay month. Even the stress of staff travel was helped along by the rather large amount of wine I’d brought back with me…

And now we head into March. Soon, those cumbersome winter coats can be ditched, the de-icer can be left in the car. No more frozen windscreens or frozen crew at 6 a.m. on a Wednesday morning. I’m holding out hope for blue skies and lighter mornings… and daffodils very soon. It’s been a long, wet winter here in the UK, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’ll be glad to see the back of it.

Well, that’s all for now. I’d better be getting off to bed. It’s a 5 a.m. standby for this old girl tomorrow, and if I don’t get my eight hours in, well… I may just be identifying as the Tyrannosaurus Rex I mentioned earlier on whatever flight they call me out for...

So, for my sake, and for my passengers…

Nighty night,

and Much Love

Susan

Snow causes chaos for Cabin Crew too!

The Diary/Rant of a Cabin Crew Member

3 rd February, 2026

Greetings all, and congratulations on making it through the first month of this new year! And how are we all finding 2026 so far?

It’s been a calm kind of month for me, thank the lord, after the chaos of December that was. Well, calm in the way that my roster was a little less jam packed, and astonishingly the rostergods even gifted me an extra day off here and there - something unheard of in busiermonths, a thing of myth and legend in this business.

So where exactly did I go? I ask myself as I write. It’s not unusual for me to forget where I’ve just been by the time I reach the car park back at base, so trying to recall the whole of last month is no mean feat, let me tell you… but perhaps I should start with the one trip that comes to mind first, the one where we got snowed in and cancelled. Yes, that one was a real treat, and I say that with more than a touch of mirth.

You see, cancellations are a part of the job, they happen, and we just go along with whatever that means for us personally. But tucked neatly under the umbrella term ‘cancellation’ is a whole spectrum of scenarios, some considerably more appealing than others. So, let’s begin with the best-case version. That will be the one where you wake up in a great destination, you’re there with a wonderful crew, and you open your phone to a message saying that your flight home is cancelled. You’re stood down, they say, and released to do as you will until at least the next day. Well, if that is how it happens, then way-hay! On goes the bikini and in comes the bloody Mary, why not! It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, as long as you are somewhere decent that extra day can be a real treat, and let’s not forget to mention that you get a whole extra day’s per diems too… to be spent on food, or as is my preference, enough cocktails and wine to pass the time merrily.

Then there’s the type of cancellation which isn’t quite so ideal. Perhaps you’re at home and, while you do get the day off, you’re quietly rolled onto another flight the following morning. Or worse still, you’re sent on the same flight the next day, your rest downroute reduced to the legal minimum and any plans you had for the trip disappearing in a dramatic puff of smoke.

Still, at least you had notice, and you hadn’t even left the house yet.

Or maybe you had. Maybe you get the call to turn around and go home again, or you make it all the way to check-in only to be sent straight back out the door. Not great, but still not the worst. Because the worst happens much further down the line and, quite frankly, in the words my children might use, it absolutely sucks.

This is the one where you get to the aircraft, you board all the passengers, and then you wait. You wait for the engineers to fix something, for the storm to pass, or, as was our case, for a break in the snow. You wait until you can’t wait any more. Until you’ve handed out every snack on board, poured what feels like a thousand cups of water, and answered the same question on repeat. ‘No Sir, no Madam, I do not know what time we’ll be leaving.’ And then, finally, your hours are used up and you have to get everyone off again. You gather your bags, ignore the more hateful comments from the few who decide this is personally your fault, climb back onto the bus and return to the hotel, having already done a full day’s work. The snow makes the journey painfully slow, and by the time you reach your room you’ve got ten hours to rest. Not even long enough for a snowball fight, or a drink at the bar. And just as you drift off, the dreaded wakeup call arrives and you’re back at it.

Back on the bus. Back through the airport. Back onto the same aircraft. Greeting the same passengers you served all day yesterday, while listening to complaints about the airline, the delay, the weather, and every other detail entirely outside of anyone’s control.

And we do feel for them, we really do, but some just take it too far. Because, here’s the thing, Barry. We’ve had a rubbish day too. We’ve missed things. We’ve had to rearrange childcare, dog care, and all of that palaver. Yet here we are again, still smiling, still serving you, still being professional.

And there you are, your life apparently ruined by us, not by the snow that stranded us all and which no one could do anything about. And I am a hamster hair away from opening the door behind me and throwing you out of it.

So, Barry, take your glass of water and please return to your seat before I completely lose my shit and say or do something I may later regret!

And meanwhile, the wings are being de-iced, the snow is still falling, and the ever-too-jolly captain comes on to say we may be delayed for a while. Again. Barry looks at me as if it’s entirely my fault that it’s snowing again and that we can’t just take off in a blizzard. And, well, I stare him down right back. Yes, we’ve been here before, and yes, yesterday’s delays-on-delays eventually meant the flight went out of hours and had to be cancelled, but for the love of my sanity, I have to believe that today will be different.

Because if I have to listen to you whinging all day again and then go through it all over tomorrow, Barry, I’m really not sure I’ll be accountable for my actions!

Oof, sorry, a bit of a rant there, I do apologise. I didn’t realise I was holding in so much rage, hehe, but that little man was insufferable, I tell you! Everyone else, I must say, was actually quite understanding, but there does always seem to be a Barry on every flight.

So, that was what happened to me, and I have to admit I did send a few choice words to ops about perhaps not leaving it until the last possible minute to cancel in future - especially when we literally watched all the other airlines cancel much sooner than us. Their passengers weren’t on board for eight hours. Their crew probably made it back to the hotel before the bar was even shut and had a good night’s sleep, if they’d come to the airport at all. But not us. No siree!

But I must move on. I do apologise again! It isn’t something that happens often, and this really was the worst-case scenario, but I guess at least the flight took off safely when we eventually got going. It did bump me off my next trip, which was a welcome treat, and also meant I got to see Mother on her birthday, so perhaps it all happened for a reason. Perhaps tolerating Barry was a small price to pay.

Thankfully, the rest of the month was quite straightforward. A quick visit to Washington, which really was beautiful under a fresh blanket of snow. I braved the cold to pop round and see Donald, but he wasn’t at home, so I settled for a quick selfie outside his White House and had some time for reflection with my old friend Abraham Lincoln down at the monument. I had my usual General Tso’s chicken from the Chinese across the road and enjoyed a wonderful rest and pamper back at the hotel.

The flight was perfectly empty, which apparently isn’t good for business, the captain tried to tell me. But while it probably isn’t, I can’t help relishing the usual post-Christmas slump, where every passenger gets a row of seats to themselves and you can squeeze in a two- hour nap on a six-hour flight. Yes, the flight probably won’t be helping the airline’s balance sheet much, but I’m sure we’ll soon be hurtling towards Easter and filling those seats quicker than you can say ‘Doors to manual and cross-dress.’

A quick trip to Africa for some warmth, a Star beer and a plate of Jollof, a few days of leave, and that was me done. It really wasn’t too bad, I must say. And now we head into February, with only one more month before the cold starts to settle and Spring raises her head. I must admit, I will be glad when I no longer have to de-ice my car in the early mornings or wrestle a winter coat into my carry-on. But then I do love the seasons, and while I don’t see much snow here on the south coast of England, I always feel lucky to see it when I’m away, just as I feel lucky to see the sunshine when the days are so short and grey at home.

It’s one of the best things about the job, breaking up the mundanity of the British winter, but I am always glad to come home. And now, as I sit in my pyjamas with the log fire burning and my dogs sleeping around me, I am in no rush for it to be over just yet. Perhaps if I didn’t do this job I might feel differently, but thankfully I chose what really is the best job in the world, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Well, from me that is all, and I’ll leave you here with a wish for a joyous month ahead. Enjoy the end of what really is our hibernation, enjoy the short days and cosy evenings for the peace that they bring. Rest up and re energise fellow crew amongst you, because soon enough we’ll be back to packed rosters and full flights. Savour the quiet while it lasts, and get ready - because this year is only just taking off…

Much Love,

Susan

How do Cabin Crew prepare for flying over the Christmas period?!

The Diary of a Cabin Crew Member

6th January 2026

Did you have a good Christmas? I truly hope that you did, and that you’re planning great and glorious things for the year ahead! I had a lovely time myself, a day full of family, food, and the usual festive chaos. But I can’t help admitting that I’m also a tiny bit relieved it’s all over.

That I feel the same way around this time most years, in fact, and I’ve started to wonder whether that feeling has less to do with the day itself and everything to do with the fact that I fly… and the sheer stress that one single roster manages to put on our entire flying family from the moment we submit our December bids.

It is, without exaggeration, two full months of tension, mince pies, and emotional turbulence. By the end of it I was wrung out like an old dishcloth and hitting the gin on a nightly basis. And not just the gin. Oh no, I worked my way through the Baileys, the Disaronno, the prosecco… honestly, if it had a cap I could twist off or a cork I could pop, I was drinking it. Anything to dull the edge of the whole darned ordeal.

The truth is, I barely remember a life before flying. It’s like a blank patch of static between adolescence and joining the airlines. I’m sure those years were enjoyable ones, but seeing as I’ve been living this bonkers lifestyle for over twenty years now, running endlessly on the aviation hamster wheel and living from roster to roster, I simply can’t remember much of it. In this life, I never know what day of the week it is, where my next hot meal will come from, or which country I’ll be eating it in… and I must admit I give little thought to before or indeed after each flight. But one thing I do remember from before, is that Christmas, back then, was simply ‘done.’ No strategy. No negotiations. And no bidding wars. I spent the day with my siblings buried in wrapping paper, overindulging on mum’s turkey dinner. Gran always got drunk on the sherry, and grandad, despite all his grand promises, never made it past the first line of the Queen’s speech before falling asleep. It was magical. It was exactly like the television adverts. And there was never any chance I would miss it. Until I became crew… and suddenly nothing was guaranteed ever again.

For us, securing Christmas is like entering the Hunger Games wearing festive jumpers. It all begins way back in spring when we can bid for annual leave. A blessed few get the golden ticket and can leave the gamee early, but the rest of us? We get random days off in October or weekdays in November that are about as useful as a chocolate teapot. We sulk, we accept it, and we tell ourselves the game isn’t over. Because it isn’t, yet.

Then October rolls around. For my airline, that is when it really begins. It’s the month mum and dad start asking about your Christmas plans, the month the tubs of Quality Street appear in the shops, the month the children start vibrating with sugar-fuelled excitement. And for us, it’s the month we place our December bids.

We study the trip list. We interpret company offers like cryptic prophecies. And we scheme. Some of us think, ‘If I bid for Delhi on the 22nd, maybe I’ll land the 25th and 26th off.’ But then panic sets in because what if everyone has had exactly the same tactical genius at the same moment and we get outbid and end up with standby on Christmas eve? Some go for the direct approach and simply ask for the days. Others think, ‘Sod it, I don’t even like Christmas,’ and shoot their shot for a three-night Maldives layover, with visions of sipping cocktails on the beach while everyone else is eating overcooked carrots.

Whatever tactic we choose, we hit the submit button and we go back to pretending to live our normal lives, saying a silent prayer inside while we wait out the next few weeks.

And then comes Roster Day.

That sacred, dreaded, anxiety-inducing day when December rosters get published. When the scheduling team push the button... and run to their bunkers for shelter before the back lash begins, knowing they have ruined whole family’s plans because they were unable to grant everyone’s wishes. It’s the day when phones all over the world are refreshed approximately every three seconds. When wine is poured in industrial quantities, purely as a sedative and social media turns into a panic room.

And then it crash lands into your life. Your heart thumps. Your hand shakes. You mentally prepare for the best, the worst, and the truly horrifying prospect of standby, as you open your line to find that one number that matters.

The 25th.

And whatever is next to it.

Days off…

I got days off! I got days off! I poured myself another glass of wine and celebrated like I’d just won the lottery. And then, after a short lived euphoria, I looked at the rest of my roster and stopped mid-sip.

India.

Standby.

Nigeria

Where, precisely, was I meant to do my Christmas shopping? Where was I supposed to buy candles and stocking fillers? And Bob’s Christmas party - I was working that weekend, and every other weekend too. Yes, I had Christmas Day off, but what would be left of my Christmas spirit by then?

My poor, spoiled, flight attendant soul was crushed, and I joined the hundreds of crew begging for swaps, visions of the children’s faces Christmas morning when they opened their stockings to find some Masala tea and a tub of Jollof rice inside.

And so began December.

Swapping trips like a Wall Street trader with questionable habits, until finally - finally - I built myself an acceptable festive roster. A New York shopping trip, a Caribbean layover for the tan, and I kept the India because I needed a pedicure and a new set of nails.

I shopped.

I wrapped.

I attended the kids’ nativities in uniform before dashing up the motorway to make my flight.

I made it to Bob’s Christmas party straight from New York on no sleep and was sozzled on two glasses of fizz.

I cooked for eight on Christmas and hosted 15 for Boxing Day leftovers.

These days it’s mum who gets drunk on the sherry and dad who snores through the King’s speech, but I love that my kids will remember their grandparents in the same way that I remember mine. And I loved that we got to all be together for another year.

Word on the crew grapevine was that Christmas flying descended into chaos, that sickness levels were through the roof and everyone on standby was called in. But no surprises there. We are just numbers, after all. And if you had to choose between showing up for a crew-down flight and an economy turkey dinner, and spending the day with your children… well, let’s just say I’m grateful I didn’t have to make that call this year, and I’ll leave it at that.

I ended the season with a lovely New Year’s trip to Dubai. I took Bob with me as a reward for buying me the diamond earrings I had absolutely not hinted about for the previous three months. We toasted the New Year in with champagne, and I felt genuinely grateful that while I’d loved it all, the whole circus was over.

And on New Year’s Day, as I woke up in Dubai slightly fragile and unsure what year it was, I realised I didn’t actually care what this month’s roster held. It didn’t matter the way December’s did. Not even close. And sometimes I wonder whether life would be calmer if I joined the 9-to-5 world. If I floated into Christmas like normal people, instead of being catapulted into it from 35,000 feet.

Maybe it would be nice.

But then again… maybe it would be boring.

So here is to 2026.

To rosters full of beaches, sunsets, half-empty flights, and a miraculous pay rise. We can dream, after all. And here’s to May, when I get to do it all again, armed with one more year of seniority and false confidence that this might be the year I secure Christmas leave and skip the whole rollercoaster entirely.

Wherever you were, I hope you found your sparkle and made the most of whatever the roster gods handed you. And I wish for you all a happy, and more importantly, a healthy 2026.

Much love,

Susan

Beat jet lag like a pro!

Tips for airline crew on managing the WOCL (Window of Circadian Low), eating healthy, using hotel gyms, and staying energized across time zones.

Crossing multiple time zones is one of the perks of airline life - but it also comes with a heavy price: jet lag. For crew, it’s not just a one-off challenge. We often exist in limbo between time zones, never fully synced to the local clock, yet still at the mercy of the dreaded WOCL - Window of Circadian Low. This is the body’s natural slump, usually hitting in the early hours or mid-afternoon, when your internal clock says, sleep now or collapse. For airline crew, it can strike at the most inconvenient moments, during your precious days off, on layovers, or even mid-flight.

So, we’ve put together a few tips on how to combat jet lag effectively and keep your body and mind in check, because in our line of work, we need all the help we can get…

1. Respect the WOCL and nap cleverly.

Trying to bulldoze your way through the WOCL - your Window of Circadian Low - is a losing battle. This is the period, usually in the early hours of the morning, when your body is biologically programmed to be at its sleepiest. Fighting it head-on often ends with you slumped over a tray of half-eaten crew meals wondering what day it is. Instead, plan for it. Short, strategic naps of about 20-30 minutes during the WOCL, whether at home or on board, can give you that quick reset without dropping you into deep sleep. So, if you can’t fit in a three-hour break on your red-eye, then it’s the next best thing. We know it’s not always possible, you might be dishing out omelettes and croissants with the sunrise and no crew rest in sight - but if you can grab that nap then do it. Just… maybe don’t lock yourself in the aircraft lav and disappear mid-flight. Management tends to frown on that.

For landing days, our rules go like this:

 Home before 09:00 – Sleep until midday.

 Home after midday – Short nap only (no Netflix marathons in bed).

Find your sweet spot, but remember, you’ll get far better results by working with your WOCL instead of against it.

2. Hydrate Like It’s Your Job (Because It Kind of Is)

Dehydration amplifies jet lag’s worst symptoms - fatigue, headaches, irritability - so keep your fluids up before, during, and after your flight. Bring your Stanley cup or favourite refillable vessel, Sharpie your name on a bottle, and keep it close. Sip herbal tea, water with a slice of lemon, or anything non-caffeinated that gets the job done. The more you drink, the better your body can handle the time zone shuffle.

If you enjoy a nightcap, go in with your eyes open. Alcohol might help you drift off, but it also dehydrates you, disrupts your REM cycles, and makes the WOCL hit harder. If you indulge, own it. Accept the consequences, plan for extra water, and be ready to dig a little deeper for that flight home. But if you made memories, had a laugh, and enjoyed the night - well, you only live once, and we’re not here to judge.

3. Prioritize Healthy Food

Fuel your body with meals that support energy and recovery. Focus on:

 Lean proteins: chicken, fish, eggs, tofu

 Complex carbohydrates: whole grains, oats, sweet potatoes

 Fruits and vegetables: rich in vitamins and antioxidants

 Healthy fats: avocado, nuts, olive oil

Let’s be honest - the crew cart isn’t exactly the pinnacle of clean eating. Sure, those chicken goujons taste amazing at 5 a.m., but they won’t do your jet-lagged body any favours.

Choose wisely. If you’ve got time before your trip, bring your own healthy snacks or light meals to keep you fuelled.

When you’re downroute, try to eat in line with your destination’s local time, even if your body’s still convinced it’s midnight. This helps your internal clock adjust faster. Opt for lighter, nutrient-rich foods over heavy, greasy meals that only intensify fatigue. Fresh fruit, lean protein, and whole grains will give you more sustainable energy than anything deep-fried and beige.

4. Use Hotel Gyms - even for a Short Workout

One of the perks of crew life is that most of our layovers come with access to a hotel gym - so use it. Movement is one of the simplest and most effective ways to fight jet lag. Even 15–20 minutes of light cardio, stretching, or resistance training can get your blood flowing, loosen stiff muscles, and sharpen your focus.

You don’t need a full-blown workout - just enough to wake your body up and give your energy a reset. A gentle treadmill walk, a few bodyweight exercises, or a quick yoga session can work wonders. On the other hand, smashing out a half marathon straight after a long-haul? Probably not the smartest call. Save the heroics for a day when your body isn’t still asking what time zone you’re in.

5. Embrace light therapy

Plan naps and bedtime based on your destination’s schedule. Avoid collapsing at random, and try to sync with the local time zone as quickly as possible. Light exposure - especially morning sunlight - can accelerate your body clock adjustment and as such, natural sunlight is your best friend. Exposure to morning light helps shift your body clock when moving east, while evening light helps when heading west. On layovers, try to spend at least 30 minutes outside at strategic times to help your internal clock recalibrate.

6. Acceptance is Key

Even the most seasoned crew can feel off for a day or two. Don’t fight jet lag excessively, just try to work with it if you can. Schedule lighter duties when possible and give yourself time to recover on your days off. Small steps, like respecting the WOCL, staying hydrated, and moving your body, go a long way toward keeping your sanity intact.

Summary: Beating jet lag isn’t just about surviving the flight, it’s about optimizing your body and mind between take-offs. By respecting the WOCL, eating well, using hotel gyms, moderating alcohol, and syncing with local time zones, airline crew can tackle jet lag head-on and arrive ready for duty!

And if you really can’t sleep, we can highly recommend listening to The Red Eye to keep you company…

The Red Eye Crew give their top 7 things that flight attendants wish their passengers knew before boarding the plane.

1. We See Everything… Seriously.

Do you think we aren’t aware of some passengers naughty airline behaviour? Think you’re sneaking alcohol, vaping in the toilet, or quietly arguing with your seatmate? Think again. We’re trained to spot all of it - and we usually do. And one of our flight attendant secrets is that we all talk to each other. If we have to stop someone from consuming any more alcohol then we make sure all the galleys and crew are aware. We are saving you from feeling terrible, or possibly committing a crime by being drunk on board an aircraft! Or doing something crazy like getting naked, peeing on another passenger or trying to open the aircraft door. It’s illegal to consume your own alcohol onboard because we aren’t able to monitor consumption and prevent incidents.

The reason I have so many stories about airline passengers behaving badly is because we see everything! It’s our job to keep the aircraft and it’s people safe so we see all the things you think you’ve gotten away with. Whether we report it to the police or not is down to us! But most of the time, when we see you sneaking into the bathroom together to join the mile high club, we look the other way…

On The Red Eye Podcast, we get more stories about passengers drinking alcohol and mixing it with medication then anything! Take a listen to our episodes Sky High Strip, Don’t You Know Who I Am?, and The San Franciscan Shoe Stealer if you don’t believe us!

2. We Notice, and Appreciate Polite Passengers

Whenever we are asked for our top air travel advice, the number one thing we say is “be friendly to your crew”! So if you want to know how to be a good passenger, then a smile, a “hello,” or a simple “thank you” goes a long way. Flight attendants are trained professionals responsible for your safety first, service second. A little kindness helps on a long day.

And if you get a really nice rapport going with your crew, we’re usually happy to sneak you extra snacks, extra drinks or maybe even a cheeky leg room seat or row with spare seats! We don’t tend to give the extra treats to those who are rude or ignore us. For those passengers, they get the basic service they paid for…

Heard by The Red Eye Crew: “It feels crazy to say this, but the passengers I remember most are the ones that treat me as a human, saying thank you or having a nice chat really makes my day! And I feel way more inclined to give them the VIP treatment!”

3. Boarding Isn’t the Time to Rearrange Your Entire Suitcase

You know when you get to the gate super early and are hanging around waiting to board - That is your time to organise your stuff!  Keep essentials (passport, charger, headphones) in hand - not buried under a weeks worth of underwear and spare shoes! Delays during boarding often come from people blocking the aisle while digging for socks or snacks. It’s good airplane etiquette to be kind and conscious of your fellow traveller. It actually makes more sense to board the back of the plane first but we know the frequent flyers would not be happy about that…

Flight Attendant tip: Place your bag in the overhead bin wheels-first to maximize space - just like the crew does. But our top boarding tip is to make sure any smaller bags and coats that can fit under your seat go under you seat. That way there’ll be room for everyone’s bags!

4. Your Carry-On Is Probably Too Big (and Too Heavy)

One of the top complaints we hear from cabin crew is that passengers bring on carry-on luggage that is way too heavy, and then they expect the crew to lift it over their heads into the overhead compartments!
Those "cabin-approved" roller bags? Not all are created equal. If you're struggling to lift it, so are we -and we’re not technically allowed to help due to injury risk. In fact, we’ve spoken to multiple flight attendants who have sustained an injury onboard the aircraft when lifting passenger baggage.

If you’re on a long haul flight, you probably have checked baggage anyway, so just go ahead and pack most of your things in that bag. You really don’t need much during the flight, perhaps your electronic devices, your medication, a change of clothes and necessary toiletries.

Flight Attendant Tip - Always pack light and remember: carry-on doesn’t mean "checked bag with wheels." You actually have to be able to carry it!

Heard by The Red Eye Crew: “I’m a healthy woman, I go to the gym, but one time a lady brought on a bag that was so heavy and she couldn’t lift it alone. I tried to help and when the bag was over my head, the passenger let go! That was my last ever flight. I was off injured for over a year and couldn’t return.

5. The Crew Might Be Running on No Sleep Too

The Cabin Crew lifestyle may seem glamourous to some. Long layovers in exotic countries whilst getting paid to stay in fancy hotels sounds like a dream! But in reality, Flight attendants often deal with long hours, delayed layovers, and jet lag just like passengers—only without the ability to fully switch off. There is nothing worse than getting a nice little hour of rest on the plane (we sometimes get a crew rest area with beds to take a nap), and then you’re brutally being woken up and having to serve breakfast within minutes of waking!

Working as a flight attendant isn’t as cushty as it used to be either. Particularly since the pandemic. Many airlines took cost cutting measures to weather the storm of travel restrictions, and they never gave them back. You may notice less crew serving you on your flight, and those crew now only get minimum rest required down route, meaning they are more tired, and over-worked then ever!

So, before you snap at someone over a Diet Coke, remember we're human too!

From The Red Eye Crew: “I once went 28 hours without proper sleep thanks to delays, a diversion and a noisy hotel room. When I was driving home, I kept falling asleep so pulled over a service station and accidentally had an 8 hour nap in the car!”

6. Please don’t argue if we say no…

You know those amazing inflatable cushions/hammocks/footrests that you get conned into buying online? Promising passengers a restful, super comfortable flight... They’re not always allowed, especially if they must be attached to the interior. They’ve not been approved by the airline, rigorously tested for safety and they could cause an issue in an emergency situation, and they could cause damage to the plane meaning lengthy delays for repairs. So, if it’s not specifically approved by the airline, for that specific aircraft, please don’t get mad at the cabin crew for doing their jobs! We just can’t risk you getting injured, and us being to blame for allowing a non-approved item!

7. Don’t put your children on the floor

Firstly, its gross down there. People drop food, put their dirty feet, and vomit on the floor with wanton disregard. With quick turnarounds, the aircraft doesn’t get a deep clean very often, so the floor is basically a hot bed of germs. The second reason is because if they fall asleep there, and move a little in their sleep, maybe stretch their tiny fingers above their head into the aisle, and then the cabin crew come down in the dark with our 200lb drinks cart…. It doesn’t bear thinking about!

We know it’s uncomfortable for your kids, we really do sympathise with you. A lot of us are parents too and know how much easier the flight is when everyone gets some sleep. But we would never forgive ourselves if they got hurt, and I don’t think you would either.

Final Boarding Call: Be the Passenger We All Want on Board

A little preparation, patience, and respect goes a long way. When passengers understand what life is like for flight attendants, and has some compassion for the passengers around them, flights run more smoothly - and we all get to our destinations a little happier!

Want more behind-the-scenes stories from the sky? Subscribe to The Red Eye wherever you get your podcasts - and hear what really happens at 38,000 feet.