3 down, 1 to go

The current time in Stockholm is 02.15 on the 14th of January, which means it must be 14.15 NZ time, and with any luck this must be the domestic terminal at Auckland Airport. 2 hours waiting time here before the 4^th final flight in this journey.

During the flight from Hong Kong, I was left thinking that *surely* with our modern technology, there must be a better and faster way to travel the world. However remembered that not so long ago, a mere hundred years or so, people were travelling from the U.K. to N.Z. by ship, with journey times in excess of 3 months (someone correct me if I’m off here…)  Relatively speaking then, a mere 40 or so hours total travel time isn’t too bad.

Back to the travel companion from the previous post. The passenger sitting next to me on the flight from Stockholm was an Iraqi refugee, currently living in Sweden. He was on his way to visit his sister in Australia – their first meeting in 12 years if I understood correctly. This guy was fairly talkative, and mentioned many things in passing – several of which I’m sure I didn’t quite catch. However, something I did understand was when he said “For me, I only need job, clothes, house, and I’m happy.” And considering he was rescued by the U.N. from an unimaginable life in war-torn Iraq (he’s a Catholic to boot), it was impossible not to see the world in a slightly different way when he labelled a great many things – almost all and sundry – as “beautiful”. Luck, fate, weird coincidence, call it what you will, it turned out that he also had the same onward flight to Hong Kong with me, and yes, even had the *seat* next to me on the flight.  These sorts of occurrences always seem to have a hidden meaning with them – and perhaps this happy-go-lucky true and pure appreciation for everything that is, is a lesson I’m supposed to learn from this encounter? Who knows.

To the present… Many things change in 6 ½ years, but through the haze of my now 40-something-hours-without-sleep tired eyes…, the sun is shining, the temperature is a mild +20C, and the humidity comfortable.

Ahh, almost forgot!

Tiredness, mixed with the noise from four 747-400 jet engines can do weird things to your perception of sound – especially with the plethora of languages and accents bouncing around in my head thesedays. Yes, this most recent flight was from Hong Kong, and of course there were a great many Chinese-speakers onboard. The weird thing is though, that when I shut my eyes, I could’ve sworn the Chinese couple opposite were having a discussion about the in-flight entertainment system in a thick Belfast accent. Their sentences seemed made sense to the point that I was sure I actually understood what they were saying. Of course chances are they were talking about the washing up or which hotel they would be staying in, but nevertheless, it kept the boredom of long-haul flying away for a few short moments at least. Following the Northern-Irish Chinese conversation, the pair behind began speaking Icelandic – a language I am pretty familiar with, and can pick out, even if I don’t understand so much being said. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realised that they actually *were* Icelandic and that I wasn’t hearing things (again!)