Traveling With RLS: Jumping Through Hoops Before Takeoff

Once again the sun is creeping out from behind the clouds, warming our bones and putting the thoughts of holidays into our heads. As I was sitting and dreaming of white sands, cabanas, and translucent seas, the horrendousness of travel whilst suffering from restless legs syndrome (RLS) popped into my consciousness.

As I live 65 miles from the long-haul airport and loathe spending a small fortune on long-term parking fees, my husband and I usually schlep by public transport. This entails a bus trip, train journey, then a good old plod to whichever terminal our gate is going to be in.

An easy ride on the bus

The initial bus journey is pretty easy for my RLS. I can jiggle my legs or bounce my heels to alleviate any awkward sensations that may arise, despite the minimal relief. In the forefront of my mind, the 8+ hour flight is tapping away at my synapses, reminding me that booking this was probably a bad idea.

Enduring the train trip

Enter the next part of the adventure – a 60-minute train trip. "Not too bad," I hear you exclaim, but consider the time of day and localised weather, and you have 150 people in a moving sardine tin trying to stay out of each other’s armpits whilst glaring at the guy who has his rucksack in a seat. Upon arrival at the airport, clean air, deodorant, and an exorcism are the next 3 things on the list!

Arriving at the airport

The pressure of travel starts to compound itself at this point. The airport is a huge building in which we inevitably will need to be at the furthest-away gate for our flight whilst navigating passport control, bag check, and every person who has left their brain in bed (you know the ones! The "stop dead in front of you for no reason" who end up being railroaded by your case's trolley). Oh no! I can feel creepy crawlies hatching at my ankles.

RLS kicks in while I wait in line

Have you ever been stared at by a security guard the whole time you are waiting for your appalling passport photo to be held up to your face to see if you match? At this point, my RLS is well and truly kicking in. I am trying to do a muted Michael Flatley to alleviate some of the sensations in my legs. I’m sure he thinks I am practising a dance routine.

Killing time at the airport

Two hours! Now, what are we going to do for 2 hours?!! At least we don’t have baggage to push around. Instead, we have boredom. I used to read. Nothing better than a good airport book, an uncomfortable metal chair, and some lukewarm water to make the time pass.

Now, since the influx of RLS, I increase my step count to 10,000 before I set foot on the plane. I try sitting for 30-second stints at a time because my legs brushing up against the seat edges is agony.

(Unrelated non-RLS question here: Who spends $25,000 on a watch at an airport? Considering you will have to pay the tax when you land?)

Airplane checklist

Carry-on luggage in hand, allocated to an aisle seat for ease of RLS wandering. Travel sickness tablet chugged down with some disgusting soda. A sedative in a little brown pharmacy bottle to be taken if the RLS gets too much and my husband doesn’t get too embarrassed at my loud snoring.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!