Flying isn't always fun

The other day I officially went insane. I even started pulling out my hair - just so I could roll it into little balls that I shoved in my ears, to block the incessant drone I had to live through.

On my flight back to Cape Town there were two people sitting behind me who decided that they were besties. We had been flying for 1 hour and 34 minutes and they didn't keep quiet for more than 8 seconds. They weren't even talking quietly. You'd have thought that they were on opposite sides of the aisle, not 15cm apart.

It doesn’t help that the guy had the most nasal, whiny voice I've ever heard. He made Karen from Will and Grace sound like a gentle nightingale who could serenade you to sleep.

The Airport

So I'm sitting at the airport waiting for my flight to board to go see my family in Durban. There is something truly great about airports and as I sit here, watching people meander around, I begin to wonder if I could get away with taking pictures of them. That “CLIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCKKKK” whenever I try take my stalker shots results in awkward stares and could lead to a lawsuit one day.

Airports are a hub of emotion. A place where all stereotypes of society come together. There is always that couple standing right at the entrance to the departures lounge. They embrace one another, no not embrace, they are trying with all their might to push themselves so closely together that they become one mangled human being - with four limbs, two heads, but awwwww, one heart. Vomit. They are so repulsively slobbering in each other’s faces, that I have the urge to close the eyes of the stranger child standing in the queue behind me.