A Few Thoughts Whilst Stranded
I am stranded in Manchester. There has been a level of snow here that they say hasn’t happened in 20 years. Thousands of passengers are stuck in airports throughout the country and across Europe, and with my 3 hours of sleep, I’m having difficulty forming complete sentences. Thank God for Ben Edmonds and other friends living in Manchester who are kind enough to let me crash at their house. I’d be in a sorry state without them.
If Robert Frost had been writing during these peak days of air travel, I do believe he would have written a poem for days like today. The air is biting in cold, the snow is perfectly crunched beneath my boots, and my hope is in another flight out tomorrow morning.
This is a first world problem. There is a price that’s paid by flying non-rev standby, and this is it. There is a price that’s paid for doing this work and for living abroad. This is it. So there’s a chance that I won’t be home for Christmas. I want to be, but I’m not going to curse the stars if I can’t make it.
In the meantime, if I could just get some sleep then I could focus on reading a book. And then another book.. and then another book. Perhaps I’ll look up some of old Robert Frost in the meantime.
