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India – pt. 1
The first thing that strikes a traveler upon leaving the plane is the smell. For the first time in a while, the airline lottery drew me a window seat. Heathrow wasn’t raining unusually on that day, although it would be more than obvious. Fifty Shades of Grey takes on a different meaning in British weather. I wonder what safety word the Brits came up with and why it doesn’t work. The plane slowly begins to fill, filling the space with a range of smells. Deodorant, chips, cologne, plastic. My recent flights were to Iceland – Poland. It smelled like Żubrówka and sandwiches with yellow cheese. Less frequently, it was wine…
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What’s all this travelling about?
God, fate, or the alignment of planets decreed that I was born in Europe. As a European, my complexion carries a tinge of olive, but it’s apparent that I am closer to the north than the south. Moreover, my place of birth dictated that, at this moment, my passport grants me the ability to travel to most countries in the world (for tourist purposes, of course) without significant hindrance. So, whenever the opportunity arises, I seize this chance. My first long-distance solo journey took me to India. What I experienced there is uniquely mine, and the unmet expectations associated with this journey in the eyes of those around me form…