Why I Never Book Window Seats on Long Flights and What I Choose Instead
After decades of long-haul flying, here’s what I book instead and why my body thanks me for it
“Six hours into a night flight, two sleeping strangers between me and the aisle, and a bladder that’s already made its decision.”
I know, I know. The window seat is supposed to be the prize. You get the view, the wall to lean on, your own little corner of the plane.
I used to think that too. Then I spent 25+ years flying and traveling for work, and I changed my mind.
On long flights anything over four or five hours, I avoid the window. Here’s why:
You’re Trapped
It sounds obvious, but most people don’t think about it until they’re six hours into a transatlantic flight and they need to use the bathroom.
You’ve got two people between you and the aisle. They’re asleep. One has a blanket wrapped around them like a cocoon. The other has their tray table covered in food, laptop open, headphones on. You’d have to tap them, wait for them to process what you want, watch them shuffle everything around, stand up in the cramped row, let you squeeze past — and then do it all again when you come back.
So you hold it. You stay put. You don’t stretch your legs. You don’t hydrate properly because you’re already dreading the bathroom trip. And by the time you land, you’re stiff, your back hurts, and you feel worse than you should after sitting down for eight hours.
I’ve seen this hundreds of times from the flight deck and as a passenger myself. The window seat person who doesn’t move the entire flight because they didn’t want to be a bother.
That’s not a comfortable journey. That’s self-imposed imprisonment at 35,000 feet.
The View Isn’t What You Think
Here’s a secret: after takeoff and before landing, there’s not much to see.
You’re above the clouds. It’s white. Or it’s dark. Maybe you catch a sunrise or sunset if you’re lucky with the timing and you’re on the right side of the aircraft. Maybe you see Greenland or the Alps if the routing works out. But for the vast majority of a long flight, you’re staring at a blanket of clouds or blackness.
And half the time, the shade is down anyway. The cabin crew dims the lights on overnight flights, and your neighbors want to sleep. That window you fought for? It’s covered.
The view matters for maybe 30 minutes total, takeoff, landing, and one or two moments in between if you’re lucky. The rest of the time, that window seat is just a wall you’ve pinned yourself against.
The Health Issue Nobody Talks About
This isn’t just about comfort. It’s about your body.
On long flights, you need to move. Sitting in one position for eight, ten, twelve hours is genuinely bad for you. Deep vein thrombosis — blood clots in your legs — is a real risk on ultra-long-haul flights. The people most at risk are the ones who don’t move.
When you’re in a window seat and you feel trapped, you don’t move. You don’t walk to the galley. You don’t do laps up and down the aisle. You sit there, blood pooling in your legs, getting progressively more uncomfortable.
I’m not trying to scare you. The risk is low for most healthy people. But it’s not zero, and it’s entirely avoidable. Get an aisle seat. Get up every couple of hours. Walk around. Your body will thank you.
What most travelers don’t realize is that seat choice is just the first layer. Where you sit, when you move, how you read a seat map, and even when you switch seats after boarding can completely change how you feel when you land. This is exactly what I’ve refined over decades in the cockpit and in the cabin.
