Travel Essentials
The strategies we use to avoid causing turbulence on our flights.
When does a vacation stop feeling like a vacation? When you arrive at an airport with a traveling companion who is routine-driven and has a hypersensitive sensory system. Our extended family is far-flung, so there’s no way around airplane travel when we visit them. From a very young age, Leah had no choice but to learn to tolerate flying. The airplane itself isn’t the only pitfall — shuttles, terminals, gates, baggage claims, and all the other stops between point A and point B also level up the stress. At times our family has raised autism awareness for an entire airport terminal.
We’re older and wiser these days, and we’ve also figured out some hacks to make travel more manageable. Here’s how we’re preparing for our summer vacation.
Destination selection
Location is an important choice for anyone; doubly so for Leah. If we’re going to force her to endure an airport, the payoff needs to be worth her while, or none of us will end up having a good time. Taking her to Florida, where her beloved grandmother lives, is a proven winner. Other trips have been hit or miss. We’ve also been on the autism journey long enough to know that some places are going to be a no-go for her. Las Vegas (a 21st birthday choice for her sisters) is too hot, too crowded, and too overstimulating. Sometimes the solution is taking separate vacations. That year her sisters got some time in Sin City, and we took Leah on a separate trip to her beloved Florida.
Packing
Leah will initiate this herself, and it will be a treat to see what ends up in her suitcase along with her clothes. Some years back, I didn’t realize she still had a piggy bank loaded with coins until I saw it in her suitcase (some stealth rearranging was in order). This stage of travel preparation is also the first time I’ll nudge her out of her daily routine by suggesting that she do laundry one day earlier than planned. Sunday is laundry day. It also happens to be departure day, which means I need to convince my routine-loving daughter to be flexible, often a four-letter word for her.
Saying, “You need to do laundry on Saturday,” reminds her too much of school. Adult Leah much prefers being consulted over being told, which is not surprising for someone who has declared a moratorium on the word ‘cooperate.’ Seriously. If I use ‘cooperate’ in her presence, I am corrected with, “You mean ‘collaborate.’”
In the spirit of collaboration, I’ll invite her into the process with something like, “What do you think of moving laundry day to Saturday this week, so that we arrive with clean clothes in your suitcase?” Luckily she is willing to lay aside her routines for highly preferred activities, or when she’s presented with a reason she agrees is logical. Our trip should fall into both categories, so I’m anticipating that we’ll be packing freshly laundered clothes when the time comes.
I am not picking battles over carryon items. I know Leah is not leaving the house without her page-a-day calendar. If it’s legal, isn’t heavy, and fits in her bag, it’s fine with me. She’s worn novelty hats on flights to Florida and to the Cayman Islands. No problem. It makes her easy to find, and if it helps us get through the airport without incident, I’m all in.
At the airport
Snacks are a must, and bringing them from home often doesn’t cut it. Instead, Leah will want to shop at the newsstand. If a large, expensive bottle of water and a couple of bagged snacks help her feel calm and prepared, I will gladly fork over the airport prices. If we’re faced with delays, iffy batteries, and other frustrations of airline travel that bedevil everyone sometimes, it will be time to bring in the ultimate comfort food — french fries. That’s not as simple as it sounds. Leah has celiac disease, so we study the terminal maps and evaluate vendors based on the likelihood that their fries will be contaminated by gluten.
I will not require her to sit next to me at the gate. As long as I can see her (this is where the novelty hats come in handy), if she wants to ditch me until it’s time to board — and she often does — I’ve learned to let her have her space. Sitting within eyeshot soothes my anxiety. If I can see her, I can intervene if she needs me. So far, she hasn’t. She pays attention to announcements and is ready to go when boarding starts.
When the time comes, we’ll pre-board. Say what you like about Southwest’s cattle-call seating — it’s worked for us, primarily because they are reliably kind and accommodating to people with developmental disabilities. Leah is not cut out for long lines and forced proximity to other waiting passengers. Southwest allows her to pre-board with a companion, giving her time and space to pick a row and settle in before the plane fills up.
“If a large, expensive bottle of water and a couple of bagged snacks help Leah feel calm and prepared, I will gladly fork over the airport prices.”
Obviously I make sure all devices are charged, with backups available. That’s basic self-preservation and applies 365 days a year. If you’ve been with an autistic young adult during a power outage, you know what I mean. Leah is fond of taking over my phone, even though she has her own, and I don’t fight her. If it prevents boredom and frustration, I will gladly arrive at our destination with hundreds of new selfies on my camera roll.
Arrival
Leah is never going to be a traveler who bounces off the plane and heads straight for the first vacation activity. While she has made huge progress in her ability to tolerate plane trips, they take a lot out of her. She needs time and space to decompress when we arrive. This is where a familiar destination helps a lot. When we visit my mother, a check on the location of her favorite fruits, drawing supplies, and jigsaw puzzles, and visual confirmation that the pool is ready for her all help her acclimate fairly quickly. The fact that my mother has learned Leah’s rhythms over the years and goes out of her way to accommodate her makes a huge difference too. As she shakes off the travel day, her travel companions finally are able to relax too.