What I hate most about flying

THE THING I hate most about flying is the landing. And, it seems to be worsening. I start getting nervous when the pilot announces that we are about to land, squeeze the arm-rest when the descent begins and until the plane begins its taxi on the tarmac, and just become plain restless when told to remain seated and buckled up while the bridge is being set up.

I’m not homophobic, but after spending eleven hours next to a gay couple who wouldn’t stop bitching about the service the whole time and even brought their own (rather spicy) food, I think I’ll stay clear of that demographic in future travels. (Well, maybe I’m slightly homophobic in extreme situations, like that one time when I was around twelve and my brother took me on a meeting at his plumber’s house, and we came face to face with the three sons all wearing dresses!)

Anyway, the past two weeks in Mauritius were fulfilling. We managed to do the things we set to do, had a good time even if I was connected to the office and working everyday (sometimes more than I would if I were at the office), and, spent a Chinese New Year in Mauritius for the first time in eight years!

Pictures are still in the camera which stayed with Priscilla in Mauritius… Yep, that’s right: I’m on my own for another month.

Eddy.