-Travelling without moving?-


I am in yet another airport lounge, staring at yet another sky that is not familar to me, flying to yet another destination that takes me further away from my loved ones. Lounges always exude the same familiar sense of gloomy anonymity - business travellers always eye me suspiciously when I turn up in my jeans while they silently acknowledge each other's suit-clad presence without casting such a glance.

I think of things to remind me that I am more than just another traveller - the sensation of hugging my sister earlier this morning, silly bits of conversations with m. and his laughter, the bright sky of london set against the millenium bridge, my mother's green bamboo shoots in their earthenware pot - and I feel less tired and even cheerful as I recollect that I will at some point encounter it all again. There will be another journey, yes - homeward bound.