“These flights are drier than the Sahara” said the flight attendant to the woman behind me, “you must drink a lot of water” in response to her ask for more coffee. 

I immediately started questioning my wine. 

This was one of those flights where the individual descriptives sound great (if you take out the context of being on a plane), but string them together and you end up with a description that sounds menopausal: dry, hot, Sauvignon Blanc, cold, La La Land, Bridget Jones’ Baby, apple juice, bathroom.

And now I’m in New Zealand ….