Alaska Airlines from Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport to Medford

If one were seeking a self-endowed getaway, one’s journey might direct them from the sun-soaked shores of Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport to the mountain-encased wilderness of Medford. Of course, by “journey” we mean sardine-ing oneself into an oversized metal pterodactyl and catapulting through the stratosphere, also known as partaking in the modish pastime of the ‘flights.’ But fear not, prospective play-flying penguins, for your wingless plight shall be made bearable by the unexpected charm of the Alaska Airlines.

The wondrous apparition known as a ‘direct flight’ could be your chosen vehicle of levitation. Oh, the smug satisfaction of bypassing the brutal circuits of layover land! Or perhaps partake in that bohemian rhapsody of travel: the ‘one-way’ ticket, forging your own path into the wild blue yonder, free as a bird (or at least a bird with a tightly regulated flight schedule).

But hark! Whispers of ‘cheap flights’ abound! Hear the merry rattle of coin returning to your pocket, even as your knees gently compress into the locked and upright tray table before you. Such sweet symphony eclipses the minor discomfort of a few hours of forced quasi-yoga. And let’s not forget those flight deals, an artful practice in the timeless song and dance of supply and demand.

To avoid falling into the infamous red-eye abyss, it might serve you to know the mythical ‘best time to book’. Like divining the flight path of a golden snitch, the vagaries of airline pricing could test the skills of even the most discerning Hogwarts graduate. But alas, my muggle friends, all we can offer is a well-timed quip from our resident Punxsutawney Phil: 'book, but wisely.'

Like the Northern Lights that dance skittishly in their Alaskan sky, the Alaska Airlines' in-flight services will indeed astound you. So copious is the airline's generosity that even the 'economy class' feels like a sultan's playground. Unburdened peasants no longer roam the realm of plastic peanuts. 'Premium economy’, my dear friends, is the upgrade whispered in the winds.

Suitcase wielders, rejoice! Here, the ‘baggage allowance’ is as expansive as an Alaskan glacier. After all, you can't reasonably be expected to engage in a winter spectacle without your sixtieth scarf and spare snowmobile. And did you know, oh intrepid traveler, that Alaska is the only state that can be spelled on a single line of a U.S. keyboard? True, this piece of trivia bears little impact on your journey, but it simply tickles us to share it.

A miscellaneous warning to the prudent flyers: a frigid Alaskan gust might get up your nostrils when you exit the plane but remember, ‘tis merely an invigoration of your lungs and not the beginning of a spontaneous ‘mannequin challenge’.

As you deplane this elongated sky-cigar in Medford, take a moment. Feel the ground beneath your feet, the space around your knees. And in the suddenly extravagant elbow room, spare a thought for the noble frequent flyers amongst us. Reaching for the clouds on a wing and a mileage program, they are the true heroes, the hardened wanderers of the skies.

So, Clasp your hearts, clench your boarding passes and look skywards, dwellers of the finite tarmac. For nothing invigorates the soul quite like hurtling through an abyss in a giant pressurised tin can. Here’s to your journeys, and may your flights of fancy be as majestic as Alaska itself. Bon Voyage.