A lot can happen during a fourteen hour flight but rarely does, other than stepping off the plane into a world quite different from the one left behind. It's 'Lights, camera, action' and in this scene you can choose to be an observer, a narrator, an extra or take the chance to play a more central role. The decision is up to each individual traveler to make and the motivation behind the initial ticket purchase may be influential in the choice.
The Phillipina to my right writhed in her seat and rarely stopped talking as her bare feet found their way onto my lap, but as I was soon to learn, her name was Dori and her behaviour was in part due to the residual effects of the incomplete removal of a brain tumour. Living now in San Diego she and her husband were to spend a few months in Manilla with grandchildren and children rarely seen these days, because the future is more uncertain now than ever before.
On my left I was aware of a nervous foot tapping that continued for much of the journey but easily cured by shutting my eyes. Two seats in front of me were occupied by a quarreling pair, not traveling together but obviously able upset each other to the point of loud abusive language, but it was the man in the bright red blazer (borrowed from Butlins?) that held my fascinated attention as he wandered up and down the aisles constantly adjusting one of the most ill suited of wigs in a jet black hue.
The couple in front were finally separated by the confrontation averse staff and the woman was given a first class seat (all others were taken), which led me to wondering "Who can I pick a fight with.....hmmmm"?
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