Reflections from a higher plane pt.6

Travel anecdotes and notes

airplane sunset

Into the heavens

A series of observations, imaginings and happenings on a recent globe spanning flight.

God bless the Germans! Real knives and forks, and finally, twenty hours since I left God's own, real food, where "Lacto Ovo" is more Ovo than lack—an actually appetising pasta meal and a real bread roll. The German air hostess with equine familiarity is back to serve my meal, and sternly orders rather than asks the man in front of me to straighten his seat, giving me a fighting chance of eating without an accident in this oversized tin can. I am beginning to think that I would like Germany a lot more than I once thought.

Unlike my previous flight, I am not distracted whilst seasoning my main course, and avoid an unpalatably hot dusting of pepper which burning hunger could not broach.

I am almost tempted to take the cutlery home, not as table implements but art, for I rather like the well-designed Lufthansa logo embossed prominently on each stem. I am reminded of a craze many years back for stealing BMW and Mercedes logos from the hood of cars, status symbols reinvented as coveted neckwear.

A man is caught behind the slow passage of the air hostess and drinks trolley down the aisle, stuck half a dozen rows from the seat he wishes to return to. Thankfully, unlike on a certain Asian airline with whom I have frequently traveled, he doesn't shoulder tackle his fellow countrywoman out of the way, a stupendously ignorant feat I really have witnessed several times, instead waiting patiently for mine and surrounding passengers thirst to be served.

I have always liked mountains, and as we fly over the Himalayas, bereft of cloud, I am quite content to just stare, equal parts wonder and imagining. Giant crests are frozen in time, ocean sized waves of rock, white capped in their million year heaven climbing reach.

An Original Walt Disney cartoon is playing on the cabin television, Donald Duck systematically humiliated by young nephews in the kind of snow fight all young boys dream of staging. God bless hand drawn animation, where backgrounds don't recycle and there are more than three frames to each character's movement. Care, patience and endurance, artistic virtues so often discarded in the pursuit of financial profit alone. I haven't seen Disney in I don't know how many years, but I do remember this particular episode, it was one of my favourites. Around me German speaking Chinese, English speaking Germans and a delegation of apparently not speaking African officials are laughing with childlike joy at the endearing silliness of it all. I recall the joy I watched this cartoon with when I was many years younger, and enjoy it again once more.