Like growing a beard, I’ve been rawdogging flights since before it became a trend.

Sitting on a plane is a close earthly approximation of hell, and although I hate to admit it, I’m very highly strung and quite puritanical in public spaces.

Some voice in my head can see straight through trying to tart up what is fundamentally an endurance feat with inane distractions and, if I did try to distract myself, I would get on my own nerves.

My thought process on a long-haul flight is something like, “that’s it now, the next few hours are going to be crap even if I watch Batman Begins or play three hours of 2048, so I had might as well dig down deep and endure slowly drying out while becoming constipated.”

I’d prefer some moisturiser and complimentary Dulcolax over a selection of Marvel films. Besides, I enjoy being quiet and sitting still.

What is rawdogging anyway?

Rawdogging is the practice of spending your entire flight doing nothing at all. Prohibited mental stimuli include:

• Films
• Music
• Reading
• Podcasts
• Games (including 2048, and don’t even mention chess)
• Alcohol
• Melatonin

You board the plane, take your seat, and spend the rest of the flight thinking.

Most practitioners would agree to the above, but seasoned rawdogging athletes might also forgo toilet breaks, water, and looking out of the window.

Needless to say, it’s not for everyone, and if the concepts of “getting on your own nerves” and “feeling puritanical in public spaces” don’t resonate, trying to rawdog flights probably isn’t a great idea.

That’s nothing to worry about: it is essentially a daft thing to do. But to me, it's a little bit less daft than the in-flight movies.

My ground rules

Like Monopoly, everyone has different rules for rawdogging, and I have mine.

I have a tremendously weak bladder and if I didn’t pee, I’d burst or turn into a 6’3” kidney stone.

I allow myself to finish whatever water I boarded with. Social anxiety and laziness stop me from ever requesting more.

I never initiate conversation with anyone on any form of transport.

Unfortunately, I have a very trustworthy and approachable appearance that often causes people to strike up conversation with me.

This is something I cannot help, although I often wish I could.

Sleep is a controversial matter. If one is asleep, one is not playing the game. But the onset of sleep is not something people can control, generally speaking.

For me, the issue is moot. I cannot sleep in an upright position. Only after extremely fatiguing trips does my keyed-up disposition permit me to doze.

Eating is also quite controversial.

Most of the literature on rawdogging has been written by well-fed business people or mid-tier celebrities, often taking long-haul trips for their profession.

Consequently, there is a promise of a good and safe meal soon after their flight.

If one is rawdogging a flight to (say) India for a backpacking trip, a good and safe meal is an extremely unlikely prospect, and it would be silly to refuse the last meal guaranteed to not make you ill.

I have always viewed eating on a plane while being sedentary for half a day to be the height of indulgence, and prefer to take advantage of burning some calories without having to move.

If ever I am hungry, the sight of an anaemic bap wrapped in cellophane and some wibbly frittata usually succeeds in tamping down my appetite.

So that’s where I stand. Here are my top three best (worst) rawdogged flight experiences.

1. Thrush over the Atlantic

British Airways flight BA272 — San Diego → London Heathrow

Flight time: 11 hrs

Aircraft: Airbus A350 (widebody)

Seat: Economy, middle block, left aisle (seat D)

I used to believe that if you have packed well for your trip, you should have run out of clean clothes by the time of your return flight.

But eleven hours in an economy class seat on a British Airways flight proved that thinking like this is hazardous to one’s health.

Even in November, San Diego is warm.

Down to my last pair of everything and with an overnight flight due to depart in the evening, I spent the last day of my trip carelessly perspiring into my last clean outfit.

One grizzly truth of air travel—if you sit down in your seat with hot and sweaty nether regions, they will remain like that for the rest of the flight.

And that’s how my night flight passed; with high local humidity.

Until this point in my life, I had never suffered any ailments down below.

So you can imagine my shock when, after a short incubation period in bed when I got home, I got up to pee and discovered that things were, well, redder and bumpier than usual let’s say.

Still, living is learning, and every day is a school day. I now keep a pair of underwear in reserve specifically for the return flight.

When things start to look dicey, I’ll change into them in the bathroom on the plane. It feels rather like putting on a fresh pair of socks after a bath.

2. How I love Bashar al-Assad

Middle East Airlines flight ME203 — Beirut → London Heathrow

Flight time: 5 hrs

Aircraft: Airbus A320neo (narrowbody)

Seat: Economy, left side, middle (seat B)

Whenever someone speaks to you on public transport, it’s usually a terminal development for the peace and harmony of the journey.

At best, these unwelcome intruders are innocuous and dull. At worst, they are complete cranks with dangerous views on the world.

And they usually talk at you rather than to you. Stage 4 inoperable soliloquy.

Violet, my seat-neighbour on a return flight from Lebanon, was an atypical case.

She had dangerous views on the world, but calmly invited me to provide my views on her views.

Given that she admired Russia’s Vladimir Putin and Syria’s former dictator–president Bashar al-Assad and felt it a most critical matter to spend our enforced togetherness pointing out their top-notch qualities, this put me in dangerous conversational territory.

She loathed the west, western precepts, and western hedonism, but enjoyed life in her beloved multicultural London.

She was of Iranian descent, but I didn’t bother to ask what she thought of the (now deceased) Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei or why she didn’t move to Tehran.

Or Moscow or Damascus, for that matter.

She ordered me a glass of wine while we debated tyrants and dictators.

Disqualify me for this if you want, but we were flying back from an ancient cradle of civilisation in the Holy Land, and we wanted to sustain the cachet of the visit for as long as possible before landing in England, which is culturally barren in relative terms.

3. Surviving the worst seat on the plane

Air India flight AI161 — Delhi → London Heathrow

Flight time: 10 hrs

Aircraft: Boeing 777 (widebody)

Seat: Economy, middle block, middle (seat E: the oubliette)

I didn’t get thrush on this flight, and that was the only good thing about it.

The middle seat of the middle block of a widebody aircraft (one featuring two aisles) is the worst seat for rawdogging as you are essentially the 8-ball in a pack of reclining bodies.

On a flight back from an exhausting trip across India, I drew the short straw and was booked into this seat: the oubliette, as I like to call it.

This was my most challenging rawdogged flight so far.

I’ll let my notes from my diary tell the story:

'The only word that describes this flight is “unbearable.”

The usual gaping mouth-breathing and strewn natural disaster blankets of night flying. LED glare from all the screens and myopic films right in my eye line.

The meals are eaten is if perched on an eyrie, while everyone elbows their neighbour perched on their eyrie.

After a loud internal monologue, I go to the bathroom, remove my boxer shorts, and shove them down the front of my trousers like a DIY pantyliner.

They were failing to dry in locally damp conditions of my pant region anyway.

In blissful relief, I fall asleep over Afghanistan and wake up in Turkish airspace.

Before everyone’s minds can catch up, we’re back in drizzly mizzly, dreary teary England.'

How I manage boredom and other issues

I am genetically predisposed to rawdogging because I have an active mind and a rich internal world.

There are usually plenty of intrusive thoughts, worries, and ideas flitting between the layers of my consciousness to sustain a flight of any length.

I’m also pretty match-fit when it comes to rawdogging as I don’t drive and catch a lot of public transport.

In the UK, public transport is rarely punctual, forcing me to endure long waits more often than I would like.

Still, here is some advice for the rawdogging neophyte.

Comfort is king

Do whatever you can to make yourself comfortable.

Wear loose clothes, pack a mid-flight change of underwear (thrush again), and plan for being too hot or too cold.

All of these preoccupations will wear down your mental fortitude and encourage you to give into temptation.

Comfy body, contented mind.

Boredom breakers

If your internal monologue frightens you—I completely understand. Mine often frightens me.

But if you are serious about rawdogging, you are at some point going to have to become okay with the inane and scandalous thoughts your unoccupied mind conjures up.

Taking a baseline can be quite fun, just dial back the self-judgment. Call it mindfulness if that helps, or a “rawdogging mindset.”

That said, it also helps if you have some interesting mental pastures to graze on. Try:

• Starting a book/film/series/podcast before your flight. The plot or topic is something to think about
• Deducing national characteristics from the passengers and crew
• Admiring what engineering marvels aeroplanes are

There are also any number of mental games you can play.

I’m too austere to play games in public, but you could try to recall your earliest memory, plan your next meals, give everyone imaginary biographies, or mentally repack your bag better than it is.

Personally, I enjoy just looking around, like birdwatching for the damned.

Maximising bathroom breaks

Technically, bathroom breaks come under the “boredom breakers” category. But, assuming you permit yourself to take them, they are of massive strategic importance.

If you are in the middle seat and your aisle neighbour goes to the toilet, always stand up until they return. Sitting back down after occupying a different position is guaranteed to provide a little mental reset.

Just be aware that this period of bodily freshness diminishes with each instance.

You should always economize your bathroom trips, but there are more time-filling gains to be had yet.

When you get up to use the bathroom, permit as many people to use them ahead of you as possible.

You can use the excuse that you are “stretching your legs” (not untrue) and you should find that standing up instead of sitting down diminishes your urge.

And, all said and done, you still need to use the bathroom before you sit back down.

You can kill a good 20 minutes this way.

If you need a number two, that process obviously takes longer, and you should still be able to employ the same strategy so long as you are not ill or suffer from irritable bowel syndrome.

Which seat is best for rawdogging flights?

This is entirely subjective and depends more on one’s physical rather than mental attributes. For me, the answer is an easy one.

Any aisle seat is best

The extra legroom assists with comfort, especially if you are (like me) very tall. It also provides the notion of activity and escape, despite those very things being denied the passenger.

It usually provides a good view down the plane, giving you something to look at.

Just be careful not to become engrossed in someone else’s silent in-flight movie.

What about the window seat?

The window seat offers some strong arguments. You have only one neighbour—a huge unknown quantity on any flight—and you get the view.

But not all flights take place during the day and, once at cruise, there’s often very little to see. This limits the stimulation to take off and landing. Once those are over, you have two people to hassle should you want to stand up.

And seasoned flyers will know that the window is positioned just beyond the angle that your neck has evolved to crane to, making staring out of the window for long periods painful.

Forget the middle seat

The middle seat is purgatory on any flight.

They have the least legroom, and you have to endure a neighbour on each side, who will undoubtedly ingress into space and—heaven forbid—brush against you.

The middle seat’s only strategic advantage is, on a widebody aircraft, having two points of exit should one of your neighbours fall asleep.

Outbound vs. return flights. Which is easier?

The otherwise accurate observation that return journeys always seem to pass more quickly doesn’t hold true for rawdogging, so again the question is an easy one to answer.

Return flights are hardest.

Why?

• One is usually wearing soiled clothes, which add to physical discomfort
• The mind is already moving onto things that need to be done when getting home
• The appalling prospect of going back to work is looming
• For many, landing is usually only the halfway point of the return journey

Plus, there is the obvious fact that on your outbound trip, all the excitement and unknowns are ahead of you, providing ample substrate for your imagination due to all the unknowns and possibilities.

Encore suffering. Rawdogging the National Express

Unless you live next to an airport, landing doesn’t mean one is nearly home.

As I’ve already mentioned, I don’t drive, so getting back usually means taking one and sometimes two more forms of public transport.

Encore misery for the rawdogger.

Usually, I book the National Express to save money and avoid the scrum that is catching a passenger train in the UK.

Yes, I rawdog these too, but for reasons unknown even to me, my rules relax a little.

I will eat, but only something cold like a meal deal.

And drinks other than water are back on the cards.

It’s always good to get home

Rawdogging flights isn’t sensible or spiritually enriching.

Yet something in my brain insists that a film or a book is meant to be enjoyed on the sofa at home, not in the cramped pastiche of a comfortable environment that airlines erect inside the fuselage.

Even if that means spending ten hours in seat E or contracting thrush.

If it were an option, I’d fly in the luggage hold. At least then I might finally have enough legroom.

The names of the people in this story have been changed.