So here I am starting what seems like a new
travel blog, and it’s actually quite hard to find a starting point of my
journey, a number of different descriptions appear in my head when I want to
describe the travel from Australia to England, some include excitement, energy,
happiness, expectations, in flight entertainment. However, the one thing right
now that sticks out like a geezer in a deli is the devastating effects of
exhaustion. My body actually has no clue what it wants to do, I arrived at
Heathrow at 0600hrs and therefore my body feels so tired but at the same time
is has no intention of sleeping.
It has been one crazy long flight from
Brisbane-Melbourne-Dubai-London. There
are a few things that I wanted to talk about regarding the flights over here,
the first is the observation that facial hair grows at accelerated rate when
the body thinks that the night has past over threefold, I mean, I must admit
that I have no great talent in growing extraordinary facial hair, but it seems
that for some reason the strenuous flight and crowded plane conditions; is a
perfect environment for you face to feel it has been in the wilderness for
3months, irritating, itchy, oily, rough and annoying. It probably comes as a surprise that I am
here talking about facial hair growth when I have just touched down in on of
the worlds greatest cities, but remember, its most likely due to the fact the
only words I’ve been speaking are chicken please, lamb please, another James
squire Please, I feel so deprived of conversation by traveling solo across the Indian
ocean.
The other aspect of my travel that I wanted
to discuss was a weird phenomenon that passengers experience when traveling
such long distances. After countless hours of people watching (We can all admit
we love a good people watching session), after all the hours up in the air, and
talking to the Serbian gentlemen who refused to sit in his seat and instead
stood in the aisle the whole time, well I observed this wired thing where the
passengers who did not talk to their fellow passengers sitting in their aisle,
well, at the end of the journey, they all of a sudden received the urge to
start talking to one another. But its not your average conversation, you sense
this real comradely and closeness, it almost like they know they have all
suffered the same pain of economy class, whilst having accomplished a team
goal, and then its celebration time. They speak to each other like they have
known each other for years and years, but the questions they ask are contradicting
to this, as they often involve question like ‘oh, so your just traveling to
London or connecting to another flight. A
perfect example of this is when I witnessed the Anglo-Indian gentlemen sitting
next to me, violently shake the passengers seat in front of him, because he
thought the seat was broken. The Lady sitting in front of him, reclined her
chair while he was reading the dinner menu of his tray table, practically
hitting him in the head with the chair, he then thought the seat collapsed for
some reason and starting to try and push the chair back to its upright position.
Pretty awkward. He actually turned out to be a nice guy, eventually I had to
borrow his pen when we were going through customs, I wished him safe travels,
and we went on our ways; leaving our special economy class bond behind.
Anyway, I have no clue what the hell I am
talking about, so I should probably go. Until next time.
Johneey
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