Getting there

September 11, 2008.
Quite strange to want to fly on this date. It's almost as if it were a preference - a chance to fly on the one date which no sane individual would associate with safe flying. Did my choice have anything to do with proving people wrong, I wonder? Like using the tips of my thumb and forefinger to put out a candle, proving that it's not hot. Then I wasn't the only one. There are plenty of people out and about today. And it's just a question of which ones I'll bump into to make or break my trip.
I clearly remember being on the verge of disappointment at the beginning of my flight from Madrid to Miami earlier on this year. Having found my seat all the way at the back of the plane, I was surrounded by Israeli men who brutally Hebrewed my peace and quiet. I don't mind sounds, but when about five sweaty, smelly, unattractive bubbis severely cramp my style I put that down to experience: that what you get when you don't get what you want.
Two connecting flights will get you to almost anywhere in the world. Mine are taking me to Kathmandu, the other "special K". It is in Nepal where I hope to fulfil my need for a reality check. To see what happens when I unplug my wire from the Western socket and survive on solar energy and the occasional life-saving Asian recharge. So far so good! London Heathrow was my last stop before discomfort. Luckily out flight from LDN to BAH was nothing less than totally fucking awesome, with an unpopped cherry on top. (pardon my French) As we were boarding, I got talking to two guys and a girl and we were having a laugh because the crew were being useless at assisting a disabled lady into an isle chair and to her seat.

+ intermission + For future reference, due to the risk of power cuts I'm typing all this in notepad first and saving it every ten lines just in case I type a whole essay and have to start again. My beg-pardons for this. + end of transmission +

Coincidentally I do that for a living (partly) and so I wasn't much impressed but I let it go. Ten minutes later, when I had found my seat and had gotten comfortable a gentleman asked me whether I would mind swapping seats. Pff, big deal, if this dude wants to sit with his family then be my guest. Especially when it meant that now one of the guys, Dave, the girl, Crystal or Kirstin or something with a Scots ring to it, and I had taken three out of four seats in a particular row. So we called number four, Benji, over too and we were ready to commence mayhem! "How did this happen?!" was everyone's thought and by the time the first round of free beers arrived we were far from up to any good. Like the fantastic four that we were, share and share alike, before we knew it there were cracking cocktails of Tuborg (#1 Danish brew), Valium, Whiskey and coke, and sachets of miracle vitamins, courtesy of Mr Bitch, first name Fruit to keep the balance. Personally I felt like stripping and giving the pilot a lap dance but that feeling quickly passed when my komrads started passing out one by one. Kuddo's by the way to the lovely air hostess "C." who was able to smuggle us all that booze, especially on a Gulf Air flight during Ramadan - sweety, you were awesome! Got to Bahrain. Wow. Middle East. Never been, never seen. Impressive. Nice airport, I give it an 8,2. Gate 12, 1 cigarette (just to be the only non-Arab in the nicotine sauna) 2 bottles of water and I met up with a Dutch lady again, who's also going to Nepal!