Something I’ve always liked about flying is that when the aircraft doors shut, you are basically in a time warp, in no-time, in a parenthesis in time. It’s possible to go on a self-retreat for the hours it takes to fly from Sydney to Los Angeles, and emerge refreshed and peaceful on the other side of the Pacific.
Retreating was in no way the style of my trip today. I allowed myself every distraction that Qantas offered, as well as those amusements that I brought along for the ride: crosswords, reading material, and an iPad for writing “Yoga with Eve Grzybowski” posts.
It’s a long flight – 14 hrs – from boarding to disembarking. And now, at Los Angeles Airport, Daniel and I are killing time. Waiting for the connection to Tucson, where my sister lives.
I’ve discovered that no matter how tired I am from sleep deprivation, it’s still possible to stay awake by playing games on the iPhone or iPhone. Particularly an ap called “Angry Birds”, the point of which is to slay funky green frogs with potentially lethal birds. I’m reasonably good at it, too.
I wish I had been as productive as some of the business types on my flight who slogged away on their laptops for a good deal of the flying time. But no. I ate, drank, watched a movie and three episodes of “The Good Wife”.
Here I am redeeming myself in the wait for our next flight by trying to stay in cyber contact with you. What is L.A. like? Mild summer weather, not too smoggy, chock full of people of every colour, age and shape and more security queues and scrutiny than I’ve encountered before, here or anywhere. Daniel says it is “theatre of security”, a big show.
I have to practice deep breathing and consummate patience each time I go through security inspection, as my titanium hips invariably set off alarms. The female inspectors who check me with their electronic wands and pat me down – “backs of the hands only” – are clinical as lab technicians.
And now, the gate agents are setting up to call us up. Stay posted.