Exit row | Kelly Learns

When you’re tall like me, having a few extra inches on the plane can make the trip better. I rarely splurge for an exit row seat, but I figured a long flight to Dublin and the return trip from London might justify the extra money, just to be able to stand up and stretch at leisure. As I settled into my roomy seat near the bathroom, it seemed like the perfect plan for an overnight trip, but I hadn’t considered being next to the bathroom meant half the plane would get up throughout the night, open and close the door loudly and flush the toilet. I gave up sleeping and listened to the guy behind me snoring while I watched the flight path on my headrest as we flew over Greenland and Iceland and eventually landed in the Emerald Isle.

The next nine days of adventure would fill this entire newspaper. I stayed in a dorm room on the Trinity College campus in Dublin and wandered the historic grounds each day. I joined a throng of tourists to gaze at the Book of Kells, an illuminated ninth-century gospel manuscript, and breathed in the dusty wood and leather scent of the college library filled with thousands of old books. I ate fish and chips in Galway and bought a heavy wool scarf that will probably be too warm for Arizona. I watched tourists at the Cliffs of Moher leave the path warning of “extreme danger” to pose for photos too near the edge. I got hands-on training on the proper way to pour a Guinness beer and listened to the organist practicing hymns in Christ Church Cathedral. In London, I nervously posed on the glass floor section in the Tower Bridge high over the River Thames, gazed at the Crown Jewels and hiked through history in the Tower of London. I heard Big Ben chime noon as I waited for my tour of the Churchill War Rooms. I ate meat pies, bangers and mash, potato chips and chocolate bars and sampled a few pints to keep my strength up.

Having spent most of my life in America, it’s an odd feeling to leave the car behind and use other modes to get around. I took advantage of London’s great transit system and hopped on buses, trains, boats and the tube (their subway system). I briefly considered trying the rental bikes, but since they drive on the left side, decided against it, figuring they didn’t need one more confused tourist on the wrong side of the road. Mostly, I hoofed it in a pair of moderately comfortable sandals or my running shoes. By the end of the week, the activity tracker on my watch showed 65 miles of walking. I ate another chocolate bar to celebrate.

The nine days flew by, as vacation always does. I lugged my overstuffed suitcase down the cobblestones and headed to the airport for the trip home. To my surprise, I was told I hadn’t purchased the exit row for this leg of the journey and was now stuck in the middle seat, my least favorite place to be. Luckily, I had two nice women on either side. For the first half of the trip, we sat quietly, eating our tiny dinners, watching movies or reading books. But after getting up to let our window seatmate use the restroom, we stood in the aisle, stretched and chatted until she returned. When we sat back down, we continued to talk. Krystyna lives in England and had just published a book about her Polish and Russian parents meeting in a Nazi work camp. She was heading to Calgary to spend time with her grandkids and had just reconnected with the love of her life from 54 years ago. Lauren was in her twenties and was flying home to Edmonton to see her parents and her boyfriend after two months working at a daycare in Tanzania and spending a few days in London. For the next four hours, we talked about life, family, what we hoped to do next and some of our thoughts about what’s happening in the world. By the time we landed, I was grateful I hadn’t booked the exit row.

Prescott-area resident Kelly Paradis is a community liaison for Good Samaritan Home Health and Hospice and Prescott Evening Lions president. She loves listening to and writing stories about life.