Brisbane Airport
I’m sitting in the departure lounge at the Brisbane International airport about to fly for ~23 hours to Holland via Singapore. The exciting send-off we had planned where Sol would come into the airport and get wowed watching planes take off didn’t come off as planned because Sol came down with a vomiting bug and fell asleep in the car. I kissed him goodbye and he barely opened his eyes but later he gave me a phone call which was nice. Felicity is still too young to get it so she will just be wondering where I got to for a week.
Aside: If your child is vomiting and you need to go in the car: get a paper milkshake cup and a plastic shopping bag (with no leaks). Tear the bottom out of the cup and pull the plastic bag through and wrap the opening of the bag around the top of the cup.
It’s funny how as soon as I walk into the airport I start writing literature in my head: the kind of heavily descriptive stuff full of wry observations and melancholy introspection. Maybe this is due to boredom or perhaps I have been feeling the itch to write for a little while but haven’t had the time. The boredom of travel is an opportunity to let your brain unravel in a way. The bombardment with the unfamiliar surroundings and interupted routine throws you into a different mode of being. The parts of your brain that are usually engaged worrying about bills, work issues and houskeeping get to collapse in a synaptic heap.
Other observations: obsessive rearranging of laptop bag. e.g. power cable can go to the bottom, likewise the panadiene (for the sake of optimism). Visited the prayer room and was very disappointed: just a bunch of leaflets on a table in a lifeless boxy room. A couple of chairs and a sign pointing to mecca (screwed securely to the wall to stop people messing with it). There was a nice framed Bahi prayer on the wall though and another framed passage exhorting religious tolerance.
Remaining battery (using extra battery in CD bay): 7:55 hours.
