Year Zero - somewhere over the Atlantic

At 8:01pm EST the half empty Boeing 777 finally took off. We had been sitting on the tarmac for nearly two and a half hours. It is strangely comforting that my first foray into travel blogging started in such a familiar setting - stranded on the tarmac at JFK.

I am not sure what you should expect from this blog. At the least I hope to provide periodic updates on my dillies and my dallies as I hop around Africa and Asia. Unfortunately, I am afraid it will probably devolve into trite observations sprinkled with a little self-deprecation. For that I apologize in advance. But there is little that can be done to stop me from writing. As my friend Audrey once said, “you have not traveled if you have not blogged about it.”

It struck me, as I sit here “satiated” from the in flight meal, that I have not traveled much but I sure have flown a lot. The airport and plane reeks of familiarity. The confused passengers at the security check point, the chatty neighbors, the overpriced food, the broken seat back, etc. are all challenges I have overcome at some point. From the track lighting to bureaucratized work force; airports, when removed from the context of traveling, are dreary places. There is a chance that at the end of this trip, I may come to reassess my views of air travel. For now, the thrill of exploration is hours away and I am exasperated with the eerily familiar.