I’m in Curitiba, Brazil, jet-lagged and living off Guarana energy drinks. William Gibson mentions in Pattern Recognition that jet-lag happens when your soul is trying to catch up with you. I suspect mine to be somewhere over the Atlantic at this moment.
I used to love travelling, going places, meeting people, taking pictures in front of landmarks in an attempt to prove I was there. Now travel has become a nuisance and has lost all of its previous appeal. It has become a cliche to say this, but hell is an airport lounge. Forget the pitchforks and lakes of fire, to me there is nothing worse than bland lounges filled with neurotic travellers.
I’ll be back to blogging about normal stuff as soon as my soul departs the baggage reclaim carousel.