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I stood on the side of the road, bags stacked next to me, coat plastered to my shivering form. The taxi pulled away, job done now that I had been safely deposited. I turned my head to stare at the drab grey building behind me. Crowds of people rushed in and out of the glass doors – eager to leave; excited to return; escorting those involved in both activities.

Despondency settled on me, a moroseness heavy as a rock and miserable as the rain sheeting down. Did I really have to go through with this?

Flying terrifies me. Not some fleeting sense of fright, an “Oh gosh!” moment causing you to raise a hand to your mouth in shock. No, for me it is a bone deep sense of terror, akin to what a deer must feel when it spots a wolf approaching. It is only through sheer force of will that I’m able to force myself to go through the tedium of checking in, boarding, and sitting in those close-fitting seats. Pride is the only thing keeping liquid in my bladder, rather than running down my leg – that and the forward thinking that leaves me dehydrated and lacking energy.

On this miserable autumn day, standing outside yet another airport, I was rooted to the spot. Not even the discomfort of rain or uncontrollable shivering was enough to provoke movement. My heart hammered in my chest, breaths came uncomfortably fast, and still I stood there.

Nervous thoughts flickered through my mind, an internal monologue turned into argument.

Do I really need to go?

Yes, this trip is important, it’s why I booked tickets in the first place.

Isn’t there an alternative way to travel?

No, stupid. Overseas travel involves flying over water, so trains, buses, and cars are out of the question.

What about a boat? They go on water.

How long do you think we’ve got? The quickest boats take weeks, and that’s even assuming one is ready to depart this instant, which there won’t be.

Not all boats are slow. Take jet boats, for example. They must be able to cover the distance in less than weeks.

My eyes twitched as I ran the mental arithmetic. Rough estimates of distance, divided by how fast I thought a jet boat could travel, resulting in a number of hours that sounded much more plausible.

The sensible part of my mind slapped that nervous fool.

A jet boat will run out of fuel long before it arrives. Then what would I do? Stick out my thumb and hope a passing container ship takes pity on me?

Fine, what about …

Another firm slap.

Teleportation and other similar forms of transportation don’t exist. Stop being such a fool and get on the goddamn plane.

I don’t want to go. What if there’s an engine malfunction and we end up in the water? That would be even worse than being stranded in a jet boat that’s run out of fuel.

By this point even the stubborn part of me realised how petulant I sounded. Muttering curses under my breath, I collected my luggage and began the slow trek through the doors and over to the check in counter.