got to go again

Got to Get There

Got to Get There

I am mostly not afraid of flying. That is, the airplanes. Just don’t think about the aluminum pipe being suspended in thin air by nothing than the thin air itself, and you are golden, that’s my recipe. I am however afraid of having to punch somebody in the face during the course of a journey at some point in history, and being inevitably taken through some ugly process of being arrested and prosecuted, and possibly even banished from the precious privilege of stowing my luggage in the overhead compartment. I hate the modern air travel, hate it. Loathe it. From the moment when I think about having to weigh my suitcase by climbing on the bathroom scale with it. Checking whether I need to put any liquids on the shameful display in a plastic baggy. Paying 5 euro for a bottle of water and 20 for a sandwich. The entire machine of the airport, efficient as a guillotine. Please don’t get me started on the “in-flight service”, all plastic smiles above plastic uniforms. And of course, two hundred people all having to pee twice within two hours each having to gently brush my head with their behinds.

Oh, man. I suppose getting up at 6 and driving for 8 hours to get to the airport doesn’t soothe the bitterness of the airport coffee. Air travel sucks. If you can, avoid it. I know many people don’t like driving – get a car where you have enough space for all that’s dear for you and take it with: it saves your nerves and you can go where and when you actually want. Really, stop filling the airport lounges, it’s not worth it.



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