My First Flight Experience – A Journey I’ll Never Forget

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My very first flight journey began in September 2024 with high hopes, excitement, and a few unexpected surprises.

I had originally booked a Lufthansa flight from Bangalore to Munich and then to Manchester. What I didn’t know was that even for a short 55-minute layover in Munich, I needed a transit visa. I only discovered this during check-in at Bangalore airport when the airline staff told me. My heart sank—I couldn’t board the flight, couldn’t get a refund because it wasn’t a premium ticket with refund feature, and ended up losing nearly £680. Disappointed and stressed, I returned home.

Two weeks later, on September 23rd, I booked again with IndiGo and Turkish Airlines, flying from Coimbatore to Delhi to Istanbul and finally to Manchester. So, it's three flights, but thankfully it was a connecting ticket, so I didn’t need to worry about my 60 kg of baggage at each stop.

Coimbatore to Delhi: This part of the journey was smooth and even exciting. The landing was especially great, and I appreciated how comfortable it felt. I arrived early, checked in without any issues, and got my boarding pass easily. But soon after, things began to change.

Delhi to Istanbul: The flight was delayed by four hours. As a first-time flyer, I didn’t realize that gate numbers could change. Only when they announced last boarding did I notice the gate had moved. Luckily, it wasn’t too far. Onboard, the journey felt exhausting. I couldn’t sit comfortably, the passengers around me seemed dull, and with no phone network, I felt cut off. Eventually, I managed to sleep for six hours straight.

Istanbul Madness: Because of the delay of previous flight, I had very little time to catch my next flight to Manchester. In the chaos at international check-in, I lost my Fastrack watch and a special bracelet with “Leo” engraved on it—both deeply sentimental to me. With just minutes left, I ran across the huge airport to reach Gate D9, dragging my cabin bag, sweating, and completely out of breath.

Istanbul to Manchester: By then, I was physically drained. I hadn’t eaten properly at any of the airports, and the flight food didn’t cheer me up. To make things worse, I couldn’t lift my cabin bag into the overhead bin, and at first, no one offered to help. Finally, one kind uncle stepped in, and that small act of kindness meant a lot. Later, I got some water, enjoyed a surprisingly good white sauce pasta, and finally felt a bit of relief. 

When I landed in Manchester, it felt like completing a marathon I had never trained for. The trip was chaotic, stressful, and sometimes heartbreaking, but it also taught me lessons no textbook ever could. It was actually 12 hrs flight journey but felt like a day.

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