Travelling with kids: Weighty issues on a flight to the UK

Since the birth of my daughter 14 months ago, three trips home to Scotland with my wife have been slightly different. Our most recent trip represented an entirely new challenge.

Since the birth of my daughter, Charlotte, 14 months ago, each of the three trips home to Scotland with my wife has been slightly different. The first two were straightforward enough, as she was so young that she slept in the aircraft baisonette without much fuss.

However, our most recent trip represented an entirely new challenge as, in the last few months, Charlotte has come alive, walking and babbling all over, with a keen interest in touching everyone and everything before her.

This new, inquisitive Charlotte combined with the fact that, not yet being 2 years old, she’s still expected to sit on a parent’s lap during flights, led to an interesting eight hours aboard an Emirates airplane to Glasgow.

With the journey taking place just days before the start of the 2014 Commonwealth Games, we found the flight awash with athletes from countries including India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Namibia. Almost instinctively, Charlotte took the seat-belt light going off as her cue to demand a march up the aisle, so I dutifully ­followed. A few metres along, she grabbed the leg of a sleeping athlete in a Namibia team tracksuit. Thankfully, she didn’t wake him.

A walk down the aisle gave me a reminder of what I should be doing on a long-haul flight, as childless passengers quietly read books and watched movies on their crack-free tablet devices (parents will appreciate that iPads do not stay in mint condition for long when there’s a small person around).

I’ve decided to not even try to watch a film on flights now, as it’s certain that I won’t get to see the end; the best that I can possibly hope for is five minutes of only moderately uninterrupted newspaper reading. How times have changed.

While daydreaming down the aisle, I failed to notice that Charlotte was again grabbing at the leg of the Namibian giant – and this time he was roused. Fortunately, the man was a gentle giant and happily made faces and indulged in some baby talk.

As we came into land, it became apparent how good Charlotte had been on the flight, when another kid on-board started screaming at the top of his voice non-stop for about 20 minutes, prompting some passengers who didn’t even know the boy to tell him to be quiet.

I couldn’t help but think that another, slightly more serious chat with the hulking Namibian could have been the answer, but he was far too polite for that. Next time I’m booking a trip with the wee one in tow, I might find myself asking the travel agent the unusual question: “Do you have any weightlifters on board the flight?”

Next week: Steven McCombe takes Charlotte on a British rail journey.

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