It may well be a while before Lauren and I get overseas again, which makes me reflect back on those days when we were hopping into a plane (oh, the carbon miles guilt) and heading off to some exotic place.
There are many who intensely dislike plane trips. Maybe it's the interminable airport queues. Or the souless no-man's land of the departure lounge. Or being crammed into a small space where you can never get a decent sleep. Or the fear of plunging to your doom.
Me though, I like plane trips. Airline food (heck, any food) has to be really bad for me not to enjoy it. These days, I have a smorgasbord of games, tv shows, documentaries and movies to watch - and usually end up choosing some mindless action movie (the flights to China featured Prince of Persia and The A-Team).
But the real kick I get is being in the air. There we are suspended above the world in a steel capsule, watching hills turn into crinkles and clouds turn into hills. I bet there were Neanderthals who watched the birds and dreamed of flight. Now we can do it so often it becomes mundane.
Not for me. Here are some of the reasons why.
|Los Angeles at night|
|The endless suburbs of Mexico City|
|The epic, monochrome landscape of Baffin Island, Canada|
|Great Barrier Island - the first sight of home for two and a half years|