Flying on A Geek's Life

The Diary: On Flights, Music and The Muddled Lives Of Heroes

Wed, 04 Oct 2017 04:27:30 +0000

Between work and visits to family, I travel quite a fair bit by air each year. Already though, 2017 is on course to be my most airborne yet - love-hate relationship with flying notwithstanding. The thing with S has been a big part of that, more so over the last few weeks, five of the last six of which have been spent down south. In times like this, even I have to admit- however grudgingly - the usefulness of being able to just fly. I shudder to think of how many hours I would have spent on trains or coaches over the last few days if flying was not an option.

Weekly Photo Challenge - Waiting

Thu, 07 Sep 2017 05:35:17 +0000

The downside - or some might say it is an upside - of having family on three continents is I spend quite a bit of time in airports waiting; to board, for baggage, to be picked up or sometimes to catch my breath after what can sometimes be a battle to get through immigration and customs, no thanks to the power of my passport.

The interplay between costs, stopover lengths and distance sometimes mean that only the very earliest of flights are workable for me, which is how I ended up at the airport at about 6.00am on this day. All in a day’s worth of waiting, I guess.

#84 - Airports..

Sat, 26 Mar 2016 23:32:33 +0000

Surely I am not alone in thinking that sometimes waiting in an airport with far too much time on one’s hand can often be the most stark reminder of aloneness…

#83 - Untitled

Fri, 25 Mar 2016 18:10:07 +0000

Harrow bound…. The view whilst I wait

#ConversationsWithMyself

Letter from St John's

Sun, 27 Sep 2015 10:49:23 +0000

If all goes well, by the time you read this, I will have spent just over 18 hours in St John’s, North America’s oldest city, depending on who you listen to. As I type away in Evernote on my laptop, my view is considerably less fascinating than what I have been looking forward to; the 3 day ginger stubble of the fellow in seat 26D, my notes and the tepid remains of coffee in a Styrofoam cup occupying the full extent of my vision. The map on the entertainment console in front of me indicates that I am now half way across the expanse of the Atlantic stretching between the western edge of the Republic of Ireland and St John’s, not entirely a comforting thought to be surrounded by all that water.