Photo Friday‘s challenge this week is “Travel”. Conveniently, my wife and I have flown out to a conference in Edmonton, AB, Canada and this morning we flew through a bank of clouds. I never fail to bring my camera everywhere, and everyone who has flown and is a photographer has taken a photo of the sun glinting off the wing, so I thought the wing in fog would at least be a somewhat novel take on a cliche.
But it’s late and I’ve got a full day tomorrow, so, uh, good night.
Douglas Adams, in The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, wrote, “It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression “As pretty as an airport.” Airports are ugly. Some are very ugly. Some attain a degree of ugliness that can only be the result of a special effort. This ugliness arises because airports are full of people who are tired, cross, and have just discovered that their luggage has landed in Murmansk (Murmansk airport is the only exception of this otherwise infallible rule), and architects have on the whole tried to reflect this in their designs.”
I think I’ll leave it at that.
My wife and I went to Las Vegas on Sunday – a little getaway for three nights before the summer’s over. We flew on Allegiant out of Bellingham, WA. The great thing about flying out of a tiny regional airport is that you get to walk on the tarmac to get on the plane. I’ve done this a couple of times, flying out of Grande Prairie, Alberta and Fort St. John, BC, but I’ve never had the chance to climb in the back end of a plane.
When I’ve walked down gangplanks in so many airports I’ve felt like I was getting on a bus. There’s no glamour in it. Walking on the tarmac reminds me of the long-gone days of the rich and fabulous jet-setting around the world. When I get into the plane all that glamour disappears, but for that one great moment I feel like I’ve been transported back a few decades.