Borders are open.
People were seen on extended news bulletins over the past week at airports reuniting, embracing, endearing themselves to breakfast television hosts who shed tears of empathy.
People kissed, masks connecting, eyes locking in signs of love unseen for two very long years.
Does it make me want to travel?
Yes, Wanda and I have a penchant for being somewhere else – somewhere that’s not here.
Not that we don’t like here. We do. And in small doses we even quite like the people here.
However, it’s nice to escape on a journey beyond the humdrum of every-day routine. Normally a creature of habit, a cruise down the Nile helps me recalibrate the system.
Does it make me want to fly? Nothing makes me want to fly.
I still recall my final pre-Covid sojourn aboard a packed-out bird full of people remarkably able to sleep deeply – some of them snoring – in the confined, upright space of their chair, knees under their armpits, armrest wedged into their hip bone.
I recall at form school there were some classmates who managed to grab a little shut-eye on the bus while heading to an excursion – perhaps a sign of their sleep-deprived home existence.
I was more concerned I’d be woken by a wet willy or a nipple crunch, intent on self-preservation moreso than a 15-minute power nap.
While flying, it’s feast or famine.
If you’re lucky enough to be on an out-of-season flight with half a dozen fellow pensioners and a three-seater to stretch on, sure it’s possible to catch 10 hours of wonderful slumber to the tune of humming jet engines and bouts of turbulence.
A full flight however, provides nothing but discomfort.
As hard as I try, I can’t sleep. I’ve had children kicking the back of my chair, babies crying in the adjacent seat, body odour wafting from the seat in front, and a smoker rolled up next to me thinking nobody except his precious little self can smell the fumes from the jacket he’s using as a sleeping mask.
Sleep is one thing, the child kicking the back of your seat another.
Inflight movies aren’t my cup of tea. The screen is small, and the earphones painful on the ear.
On my most recent international flight, I spent 14 hours playing inflight chess with a guy named Igor. Even he must have felt like giving up after his 15th straight victory.
But it wasn’t about the chess. We were soul buddies, neither of us able to sleep and both of us trying to convince our brains that we were otherwise occupied.
You see, he too was in a middle seat with sleepers at either wing.
It is impolite to converse with those you’re playing virtual games with, and my Russian is not great.
During a toilet break at the end of round 6, we exchanged glances, a nod of mutual respect – he the victor, me grateful for the lesson and the patience to overcome half a day of lower back pain and deep vein thrombosis.
Igor and I skipped meals that flight. Plane food isn’t usually great, but it’s sometimes there for no other reason than to keep the hands busy.
It distracts the brain for 30 minutes until the next meal three hours later.
Igor was my godsend. Given our mutual middle seat assignments, he would little doubt appreciate me addressing one small unwritten rule of flight etiquette which I personally feel should be plastered to the back of seats alongside the in-flight entertainment screens.
If you’re in a middle seat, you are entitled to first option of arm rests.
Aisle seat holders can hang one leg and arm into the aisle, although this is not recommended while sleeping.
If you’ve ever been hit by a drink cart during a 3am delivery of “breakfast”, you’ll know exactly what I mean.
They can snap a knee cap clean off, which is their prerogative because you signed that patella away with the purchase of your ticket.
Look at it from a flight attendant’s point of view. Nobody wants to be looking out for random knees when trying to settle restless Brits as they choose free alcohol as their inflight distraction tool.
Window seat holders can lean into the wall.
Nothing’s ideal. Although one thing’s for certain. This is a team game. And Igor was on my team.
He may have humiliated me as a chess player, but he stuck with me as a flight buddy.
Wanda, can we consider somewhere a little closer for our next adventure?
