How I survive long-haul flights without arriving completely exhausted

So there I was, staring down a 12-hour flight from Frankfurt to Singapore, and I thought, “Right, how exactly do I survive this in economy again?” Hopes of the elusive free upgrade had been futile and let’s face it: if you’re flying Singapore Airlines on a non-upgradeable ticket, you’re in for a marathon, not a joyride. But fear not, fellow traveller: I’ve put together a survival kit that might just keep you sane, hydrated, and mostly upright.

1. Gear up for comfort

I learned to gear up the hard way on my last long-haul, from Brussels to Bangkok. The airline neck pillow? Cute, yes. Functional for sleeping? Only if you enjoy your head flopping alarmingly sideways. These days I bring my own memory foam monstrosity. It does not fit in my hand luggage, but it can at least be worn through the airport like a colourful neck brace.

I pack compression socks. Sometimes I even wear them. Mostly because I would rather not flirt with DVT at 35,000 feet, but also because swollen ankles are not exactly a holiday highlight either. I bring an eye mask and if I’m feeling particularly fancy, I even bring my own travel blanket instead of the scratchy plane blanket.

The headphones they so kindly supply? Made my ears hurt in more than one way. These days I bring my own noise-cancelling earphones. Partly to drown out the baby two rows ahead who seems to have trouble settling down (relatable). Partly because they make the in-flight entertainment much easier to hear.

Finally, I dress in layers, because cabin temperatures tend to swing wildly between greenhouse and meat locker.

2. Entertainment arsenal

On our flight to South Africa, the in-flight entertainment system chose the exact moment I had chosen something to watch to “update.” The long-suffering purser could not get it working again until we were well over the Sahara. I will spare you the melodrama, but it did teach me one valuable lesson: preloading your own shows on a device is a sanity saver. I usually fill part of the flight by joining the in-flight trivia contests and, more often than not, I am effectively the entire leaderboard, occupying most of the top 20 places apart from a stubborn few. Yes, other people do play. I just happen to know an alarming number of gloriously useless facts. When that loses its charm, or the tournament itself decides it has had enough, there is always my eReader, along with every season of Suits and House on my iPad. I even remember to pack the right adapters, so I can resurrect whichever gadget gives up on me mid-episode.

3. Snacks & staying hydrated

I once relied entirely on airline food on a 10-hour flight. Let’s just say I did not emerge victorious. To be fair, this was not with one of the better airlines, but even the top ones tend to serve food that is bland and arrives in a parade of tiny plastic trays. Much as I enjoy the subtle art of eating a full meal from a tray table the size of my iPad, I now bring a few things of my own. Usually that means granola bars, chocolate, and something salty like biscuits or crackers.

I also bring an empty water bottle and refill it after security, because planes are really just deserts with wings. I skip coffee and limit myself to no more than one glass of wine. My advice is to go easy on both caffeine and alcohol. Your future self, and your bladder, will thank you. So will your neighbour. Nobody wants to spend a long-haul flight beside someone who is unpleasantly drunk, bouncing around like Tigger, or climbing over them every half hour to get to the toilet.

4. Health & movement hacks

I’ve learned to stretch like a contortionist just to avoid calf cramps, restless legs, or a neck that will only turn to the right because I fell asleep in an awkward position. Every two to three hours, I get up to walk the aisle, rotate my ankles, and do a few seat exercises. So far, I have managed this without accidentally smacking my neighbour in the face.

I also bring a small hygiene kit: toothbrush and toothpaste, face wipes, lip balm, and a tiny spray bottle of water. Again, I try to use it without hitting my neighbour in the face. Some airlines provide these kits. In this case you can take the cute little tubes and whatnots home and promptly forget about them.

5. Mindset & tricks

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve broken a flight into mini missions: watch a film, eat a snack, nap for 45 minutes, repeat. It makes the time pass faster, and I like to pretend I’m training for something heroic, though I’m not entirely sure what. It also helps to laugh at the absurdity of it all. There you are, sealed into a metal tube with 500 complete strangers, 35,000 feet in the air, hurtling towards an unfamiliar destination. And we do this voluntarily.

Finally, I try to be nice to my neighbours and the crew. We are all in this together, after all. I generally assume people are not trying to make my life a misery, even if they are a bit rude or cranky. They might be nervous, they might be tired, they might be missing the people they left behind. I cannot know that, and it never hurts to be kind. Within reason, of course. If someone is really misbehaving, kindness goes out the window and the flight attendant comes in. It has happened.

6. Seat selection strategy

Lesson learned: never underestimate the power of a decent seat. Give me an aisle any day, for the simple joy of being able to stretch my legs or head to the bathroom without staging a minor diplomatic incident with half a row.
Exit rows and extra-legroom seats are often worth serious consideration too, although airlines are now very aware of this and tend to charge accordingly, sometimes even for the privilege of choosing your seat at all.
The middle seat remains, in my opinion, a form of low-grade suffering best avoided unless I am wedged between family members, in which case I can just about live with it. Some airlines have also discovered they can sell you the dream of an empty seat beside you, usually by wrapping it up as a premium upgrade promising elbow room.
And while seats near the lavatories or galleys may look harmless on the seating plan, they often come with a constant parade of noise, traffic, and general commotion, not to mention the added annoyance that these seats often refuse to recline.

7. A word (well, several) on airplane etiquette

Long-haul flights are a shared social experiment. We are all tired, mildly dehydrated, and trapped together in a metal tube, so it helps if we behave like reasonably civilised adults. In other words, we observe the unspoken rules of airplane etiquette.

Boarding without behaving like a menace

To begin with, greet the flight attendants when you board. Yes, they are there to take care of you. They are also trained to assess whether you are likely to become a problem at 35,000 feet. Stumbling past them without so much as an acknowledgement is not only rude; it may also attract exactly the kind of attention you do not want.

Claiming your space, not everyone else’s

The same goes for your neighbours. You will be spending a great deal of time beside them, so it does no harm to say hello and offer a quick smile before settling in. And do store your hand luggage swiftly so you are not holding up everyone behind you. The aisle is not the place to begin transferring snacks, chargers, gadgets, drinks, emergency cardigans and assorted paraphernalia from one bag to another. You had plenty of time for that before boarding. I realise I sound like a very strict schoolteacher, which, in fairness, I am. Feel free to ignore me if it becomes unbearable.

Once seated, a whole new set of rules comes into play. Keep your belongings within the boundaries of your own space and do the same with your arms and legs. No manspreading, no elbow creep, and let us all remember that the person in the middle seat gets both armrests. It is their only consolation. Let them have it. If you are in the aisle seat, congratulations: you now have a part-time job getting up whenever necessary. And if you are by the window, the shade is, in principle, yours to manage, though a little awareness of the general cabin mood goes a long way.

Screens, shoes, and general standards

If you are watching or listening to anything on your phone or tablet, use headphones, even if it is only “a quick video”. On overnight flights, dim your screen once the lights go out. Nobody needs an unexpected sunrise at 2 a.m.
If you take your shoes off, keep your socks on. This is still a society. And as for walking around the cabin, or even visiting the lavatory, barefoot: are you absolutely sure?

Food and other airborne offences

Food is another area where sound judgement is welcome. Please refrain from bringing anything especially pungent or messy on board. Fish, egg sandwiches, garlic-infused noodles, and whatever else I have seen and smelt on planes over the years can wait until we have all disembarked.

The reclining debate

Then there is the question that has divided the internet for years: to recline or not to recline. There are two main camps. One believes, quite reasonably, “I paid for a seat that reclines, so recline I shall.” The other believes nobody has the right to invade their already meagre personal space. Technically, the first group is correct: the seat reclines, and they are allowed to use it. That still does not mean you should fling it back without a second thought for the person behind you. Do not recline during mealtimes, and do not slam your seat back. Ease it down slowly, like someone raised to live in society. My own rule is upright unless trying to sleep, but that is just my preference. And if any disagreement does arise, do not attempt to stage a mid-aisle stand-off with your fellow passengers. Call a flight attendant.

After landing, resist the stampede

Once you have landed, you are of course free to leap up immediately, twist yourself under the overhead locker at an unnatural angle, and clutch your bag as though this might somehow speed matters along. It will not. You are not going anywhere until the aisle clears so you may as well remain seated and disembark row by row. You are leaving a plane, not escaping a burning building.

A final note on safety

One final note on safety: keep your seatbelt fastened whenever you are seated. Sudden turbulence can send people flying into the ceiling with alarming force. Not a risk confined to economy class but worth mentioning.

8. Bottom line

Economy isn’t glamorous. It’s a survival sport. But with the right gear, mindset, snacks, and humor, you can make it to your destination mostly sane, hydrated, and maybe even a little rested.

And if you’re over 55 like me, remember that we’ve survived worse: mountains, glaciers, questionable hostel food, and enough late-night trains to last a lifetime. Twelve hours in economy? Not ideal, but not exactly Everest either.

If you’re wondering whether a destination is worth the long flight, check out my Thailand guide for 55+ travellers or my 3-week South Africa itinerary

If whether you’ll even fit in the airline seat is keeping you awake at night: you are not alone. Check out my post about the worries of travelling in a non-whippet-shaped body (and going anyway).

If the cost of long-haul travel weighs heavily on your mind, check out my budget planning post.