Getting on that plane to start the journey to Europe, the experience is one of subdued stimulation. This sensation started in the vivid awareness of my youth, when I was definitely more wide-eyed and inexperienced than I am today, but the feeling persists even into my sixth decade. You’re not walking onto a plane, you’re walking onto a time and space capsule, ready to transport you to another world. Once I get on that transport machine, I have a definite change in attitude and disposition, my sense of adventure is aroused. No longer bound by a list of objectives, I now have the time and space to relax, read, watch movies, or just think. I do what I want to for the approximately 15 hours it takes to complete the trip. Time slows down in that flying tube, and the mind takes a break from the constant focus on things to do.  That is, at least until boredom starts to set in after sitting in an 18 inch seat with no space for the legs to fit, and I start feeling a bit queasy from breathing stale air, and ready to taste some real food.

Walking off the plane, you sense a feeling of relief from that cramped space, and hope you have everything you intended to take with you. Immediately you start to hear the strange languages and sounds, workers using segways and mini-bikes to move themselves around the airport, and always offers to purchase some type of European goods — chocolates, alcohol, perfumes — at duty free rates, whatever that is. You get to follow whatever strange customs are followed by the country you have landed in. I am always attracted to the people swirling sugar into their cappuccinos, and amazed at the number of people that are drinking large beers or glasses of wine when we land in Europe. Not quite sure where that comes from, as I rarely see anyone drinking anything before lunchtime, at least in northern Europe.

The provincial fashion sense is also something that usually is striking. Whether getting off the plane in Britain, Sverige, Italia, Espana, or Poland, the clothing and dress of the people always seems somewhat provocative, and fun. It makes the t-shirts and jeans that we are used to seeing in the US seem pretty trite and uninspired, although I would also say that the t-shirts and jeans mode correctly reflects the attitudes and sensibilities of our own country and culture.

The flight home, curiously, I experience as a reverse of the flight out. I usually walk onto the plane having assimilated somewhat into the culture. The customs and fashions no longer feel so unusual, and in fact may be integrated into my being by now. The relaxed mood encouraged by the sensual experience of being in that different culture allows me to settle into the seat with a low awareness of my current list of objectives and action items. I generally try to hold onto that feeling as long as I can, and usually succeed, at least through the plane ride and for the 48 hours thereafter. After that, it’s back to the coal mine, turning big rocks into little rocks, and trying to work through that endless list of things needed to get done.