Its like catching a bus

An airbus that is.

Once upon a time entering an airport was an adventure akin to walking on the Moon for an Astronaut - a once a decade, perhaps belatedly a once a year adventure to the brave new world . Preparation was key, requiring reading beforehand, a study of country perils, an invesigation of things that could go wrong, pills for every diease outside the common cold, learning new useful phrases such as ~please, thankyou and toilet!~ in a different tongue, a checklist of emergency telephone numbers, seeking advice on ticket validity, admiring the brand new look passport. And now here I am, things are put into a category marked things to do on the night, before except unknown visa applications which can take a while longer and require an extra passport.

Clothes are worn that have been bought and designed for the purpose with specialised pockets of certain size to carry things ready for the trip - I have acquired a business look stereotype of thousands of others similar to others, airport sitting, waiting, timing a rush to to the gate to a synchronisation worthy of an Olymoic swimming competition, anticipating connection delays, disappointed in a fellow passenger is only now un lacing a shoe, failing to remove the clunky jewelry, unready with a passport at the various stations. I am an expert in airport decorum, I am in time with proytocols of different airports, it is a necessity, it is a sign that I could be doing something better, like reading books with the kids, being there to explain the quadratic equation, to be a shoulder to cry on, but I am here earning the euro dollar. A litttle confession of exaggeration, I may need a little time to remember how to do quadratic equations.

This time I have an acrosss Atlantic trip, an experience to be had in turning from one bed sore to another.; breathiong a bloated mass of gaseuous fumes intent on burping their way from Business Class. Yes Business Class is a real luxury, one appreciates at the Company expense, it eases the bed sore rotation rate a little with the anaesthetic effect of the occasional wine or spirit a welcome relief.

And this away trip to the Hotel complex has the added adventure of investigating pot-holed roads, dusty roads, did I say roads I must like exaggerating, tracks that incredibly can apparently traversed at speed, mini-bus overtaking manouvres for the brave driver and the cowardly passenger, unable to talk by a mixture of fear of engine noise and inability to shout the native tonge. A sign language saying ~please slow down ~ translates badly as we quicken to the death defying curves ~ I hope death defying ~ where is a priest when you are ripe to convert. Grinning and bearing it here adds mental to physical - bed sores to brusises. And as you like it- this Site Visit is like two sides of a coin ~ heads winning, tails losing ~ either the profit potential making, Company vested business development opportunity or a God forsaken, malaria infested swamp in the land that Man forgot.

Finally we face the wildlife and the sun. The whitey Europeans not so white after minutes in this sweat inducing ambience. Whitey rapidly becomes red-dy, rapidly becoming dotty. A veritable exercise in join the dots road map of vital and non vital organs drawn by the local Mozzies, and did I say Malaria infested. Mozzies dining on international fayre today - Spotted Dick.