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Banbury Cross

a pillow for lost thoughts...

Post details: Aircraft Witchcraft

Aircraft Witchcraft

An airplane is like a magical tube.

You enter its cabin, you take your preassigned seat, you eat you meal, see a good movie, maybe listen to some music - and in a few hours - voila! - you are somewhere else. Different time zone, different culture, different weather, different brand of cereal, different currency. As if while you fidgeted in your seat a mighty wizard tapped the hull of the airplane with his wand.

A car does not quite provide the same level of shock and awe. When you drive around you see the world change continuously. East slowly morphs into West, mountains slowly dwindle into plains, warm climates slowly cool. Like when you drive from Phoenix to Flagstaff in Arizona. You start at the bottom of a desert valley populated with little more than forests of Saguaro cactuses. Then you take interstate 17 and in a few hours you climb onto a high mountain plateau covered with grass and even sparse groups of coniferous trees. But you never really notice any change. It's just that there is fewer and fewer cactuses and the patches of turf seem larger, greener and more frequent. And before you know it, you are in the middle of a prairie.

With airplanes it's different. The change is abrupt. One moment you enter this hollow metallic cylinder at the Dulles International Airport in Washington, DC and the next one you can't believe your eyes. You are in Reykjavik.



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