The Death of Architecture <= :julianbrowne
If you looked for places on the earth to experience unusual clarity of thought I don't suppose the island of Aruba would make it to your shortlist. I recently got back from a trip there to watch my brother-in-law get married, but if you're not from the North or South Americas then you probably haven't even heard of it (it being a very long multi-hop flight from everywhere else). I certainly hadn't and had to fly there from London via Miami. Fourteen hours in the air, plus six or so hours hanging around the airport. And let me say this - I hate flying. I hate everything about it. The pre-dawn parking, the waiting, the lugging heavy bags, the faint medical smell of the airport, but most of all the flying. Despite a total acceptance of the statistical fact that I am more likely to die on the way to the airport than in the sky, I have an all-encompassing fear of flying, one which recent membership to the Lorazepam Flight Club has done little to abate.
Read full article from The Death of Architecture <= :julianbrowne
No comments:
Post a Comment