People I Meet on Planes ✈️
- artwithelida
- Oct 10
- 4 min read
There are two types of travelers…those who talk on planes, and those who don’t!
I was running late- big shocker, I know. I’d stayed up far too late the night before trying to roll my clothes into tiny bundles of stuffed sausages, cramming 2.5months worth of clothes into my carryon. I didn’t finish packing until 2 a.m.and only had 2hrs of sleep before I was racing to the airport.
I arrived with five minutes to spare before check-in was over. Sweaty but happy to have made it, I got through checkin and was onto my gate.
Just ahead of me was a couple pushing a baby in a stroller — both of them tall, elegant, like they’d stepped out of a Vogue magazine. Their little boy was the kind of chubby-cheeked baby you’d see in baby food advertisements or on the labels of baby food. He was only three months old but looked twice that age, plump and perfectly round like babies can be. The epitome of health.
As fate would have it, their seats were right beside mine. I had the window; they had the middle and aisle. They started to apologize because “I was the poor soul who had to sit next to a newborn”, but I assured them it wasn’t a bother. I knew all to well how hard it is traveling with kids and I was just glad to be past those years.
They spent most of the 5 hour flight on repeat— feeding, burping, rocking, humming and bouncing. He slept, smiled, cooed, and barely made a peep the whole flight. In between naps we chatted.They lived in Bend, Oregon and were both rock climbers (hence the fit physics). Her name was Ellie and his Dylan. The baby was named Miles and this was Mile’s first flight. They were headed to NYC for a friends wedding and Ellie’s parents were meeting them there to help. As we deboarded, I couldn’t help but think: I wish they’d give kids their wings for their first flight or maybe it’s the parents that should receive a reward for bouncing and buzzing their way across the country with a baby in tote. I gave them my card, congratulated them on a job well done and headed to customs.
A Bar in JFK
After we landed in New York, I had a few hours to kill before my next flight. I walked the entire length of Terminal 8 and finally settled on the only restaurant open, an Irish pub called O’Neill’s.
While waiting for a seat, I struck up a conversation with an English man beside me. Glen had that quintessentially British look — glasses, a straight nose,a slightly crooked smile and a quick wit that made conversation easy. Two seats opened up at the bar, so we continued chatting side by side. We talked about everything — family, travel, work and navigating midlife. When I told him I was an artist, an author, and that I led creative retreats in Italy, Greece, and Croatia, he laughed and said, “You’ve got to stop — you’re making me feel inferior. But then he continued, “You’re the second most amazing woman I’ve met this year.” The first, he explained, was an Irish woman, traveling solo across Australia on a bicycle, sleeping wherever she could find a safe spot and he had met her at an Irish Pub as well. She sounded fantastic!
We shared fries, laughter, and fun banter until it was time for my flight. As we said goodbye, he told me, “When you get to London, you’ve got a place to stay with me and my family. We’re on the east side — you’ll love it.” I promised I’d look him up when my travels took me to a London and off I went to catch my flight to Madrid.
Crossing the Atlantic
My connecting flight looked half-empty, and to my delight, I had a whole row to myself. I was already planning to stretch out and sleep, but the armrests weren’t budging. Before I could google “how to unstick my armrest on American Airlines” the pilot announced we were waiting for a connecting group from Florida — 18 people were coming and to “move back to your original seats please.” It was a little bit of a relief the armrests were broken because I wasn’t as disappointed.
A young Colombian couple slipped into the seats beside me — Katherine by the window, Oscar beside me in the middle. They apologized for squeezing in late but were so happy to have made the flight. Over the next seven hours, we became fast friends.
We talked about family, growing up in different countries, and their new life in Florida. They showed me pictures of their son, Antonio; I showed them mine. Between snacks, naps, and movies, we shared the kind of easy companionship that can only happen on an airplane. Before landing, we exchanged information and now I have friends in Florida. They promised to stay in touch and I think someday they will visit me in Washington.
As I headed to grab my luggage before venturing onto Madrid, I was reminded of how much I love connecting. I don’t think you really have to be traveling to experience connection. Although the plane ride was a great pause for me before launching into my travels. I believe connections are open to everyone, you may meet your next best friend standing in line, or you could be lucky enough to witness the pure joy of a newborn baby experiencing something new for the first time. The point is to just be present and be open to who is next to you.
I feel incredibly lucky to be transported in space and time to another country. Now I’m ready to embark on this adventure of a lifetime. First stop Madrid, and yet I’m already feeling the blessings of this fabulous life adventure by the connections and people I’ve met thus far.
Ciao for now,
Elida
You're the friendliest woman I know Elida and no wonder it's easy for you to connect with strangers. I admire you!