Jets are fine, but the smaller flights going into and out of Norfolk can't even accommodate a standard size, or some even smaller, carry on pieces of luggage in the overhead bins. Consequently, the airline attendants pull them and they have to go in with the luggage underneath, hence no access to them if you need anything from the carryon. Furthermore, the single seats on one side have two arm rests on either side of the narrow seats that do not accommodate today's larger Americans and certainly not very comfy for my 6'3" football player-sized husband. Even my little eight-year-old could not comfortably lie down across the double seats when the arm rest was lifted. We had an evening flight that did not get in until around midnight. Bless his heart, Clark wiggled around, but could not accommodate his 4'7" frame on the two seats at least not for very long. And just try to walk down the aisle to the bathroom without bumping into about half of the people who are sitting on the aisle!
My colonial characters would certainly be astonished to be able to even fly across the country in one day and I am certain they would not be whining like me. That is one of the great things about writing historical fiction – it really readjusts my lack of gratitude when I ponder their situation vs. ours!
Today, thanking God for even itty bitty seats on planes that can take us through the air in relative comfort. What will our great-great-grandchildren travel in?