….and again, and again, and yet again. Not sure that I remember the part in my wedding vows where it mentioned that I would be packing up, moving house, unpacking, packing up, moving house, unpacking…continuously through out this glorious union we call marriage. Maybe it is my fault, I should never have let that gypsy vampire bite me when I was putting out the garbage, one dark and misty night, in Transylvania.
You figure I would be good at it by now, wouldn’t you? I suppose on some levels I am, although it it rapidly becoming clear to me that my favourite part of moving is the plane ride….from the moment I check-in to the moment I disembark…the glorious lack of control, the wonderment that comes from having no decisions to make other than “Chicken or Fish?” (does it show that I fly cattle-class? One day I might like to like to be asked “Moet or Dom?) There is something brilliant about the act of just sitting and letting a group of very “capable professionals” (must keep on the good side of people who can make your life a pure misery simply by forgetting to bring you a blanket) cater to your every need. I like to fly. I am the one that will ask for a toothbrush, just because I can. I will be the first up when everyone is asleep to scour for the basket of midnight snacks that the staff place cunningly out of the line of sight of passengers (Go JAL.. always the best nibbles). Even if I am so exhausted that I have to do it with one eye closed, I will manage to plow my way through as many ‘on-board entertainment’ films as it is possible to do. You have probably heard a moanful cry of pure angish when the captain tells us it is time to land, just about the time that Brad Pitt was about to…..yep, ,that was me. When it was announced that we would soon be able to use our mobile phones onboard, I threw mine out at 30,00 feet!
So where was I going with this? Oh yes, my wings have been clipped. At least for the time being (until I can conive my way into a new country). I have been given orders to stay put. Those that know me might ask “Where? Paris, New York, Bombay?” Weeelllll…not quite….*shuffle feet in the dirt a little, stuff hands into pockets and look uncomfortable* … no, it would seem that life has determined that it is time for me to spend a little time in a town with a population of less that 20 million. Quite a bit less… No, even less than that… yep…a small town in Germany.
If you thought that Cairo was a blast… hold on to your hats, ladies and jellybeans! Here we go again.