Riding in planes with drunks

Soothing pan pipes over Singapore airport speakers are a welcome change to the cursing, moaning, drunken dribble of the past seven hours.

Emirates EK0433 has a brief stopover and I take the opportunity to escape my flight neighbour, Andy from the UK, who was somewhat inebriated when he boarded in Brisbane. Within minutes he had announced a terrible fear of flying and the desperate need for more alcohol; 100ml of vodka at a time.

Now, I am not sure what the international code for responsible service of alcohol is, but I am sure that Andy had long passed the okay-to-have-another mark. At one point, soon after take off, it all became too much for him: he enthusiastically used some C, F and MF words then literally jumped over me and another passenger – feet on seat, butt in face – to come crashing into the isle.  Slurred singing and attendant abuse accompanied the rest of the flight to Singapore…oh the joys of riding in planes with drunks.

Despite Andy’s best effort to be as obnoxious as possible in the fist leg of my 30 hour journey to Berlin, the thought of the seven week Europe-Middle East adventure ahead has me grinning. The psychotic butterflies have calmed, my good-bye tears have dried and I am now buzzing with excitement.

I am trying to imagine what it will be like in Berlin. My past travels have taught that you can never quite imagine what a destination will be like, no matter how much research you have done. While I am certainly one to read and talk and obsess about the details before I arrive, it is the sounds, smells, colours and shades that intoxicate me, make me crave travel, fuel the wanderlust.

My mission for the next seven weeks is to embrace the wanderlust that has been burning since my last international adventure over three years ago. I can’t wait for the culture shock. I am excited to learn new languages and the social quirks of each country. I intend to talk to strangers in unlikely situations and challenge myself to find, explore, let go.