Waiting for boarding, I feel both my feet on the ground. This is the time for me to use my inner sense of groundedness. There are good people where I'm going and I will be on the lookout for them.
I don't have to wait long. On the plane I'm sitting next to a nice couple from Wellington. They are on their way to an adventure in Shanghai. We have some pleasant chats on the way and I'm grateful for the sense of familiarity that sitting next to friendly Kiwis gives me on the first leg of the trip.
I have a window seat, which is going to be great for the approach to Shanghai. However it's a little spoilt by being positioned right over the wing. We fly out at 11.30 pm, and I realise a few things over the next few hours. One, that a night flight in a window seat is not such a good thing. I'm constantly trying to balance the thirst and dry mouth with the full bladder, not wanting to drink too much because I can't get out of my seat and past sleeping people. There is simply no room to squeeze past, and the Olivers next to me must have cast iron bladders! Another thing I realise is that I still can't sleep on planes. So I pass the time by watching "Salmon fishing in the Yemen". Some laugh out loud moments; I'm grateful for the lightness but there's no-one to share it with. Also I read an incredibly sad but inspiring book called "let it go", written by a man who was driving his family home from a dinner out and was hit by a drunk teenage driver, killing his pregnant wife and two of his four children. It's a beautiful story of forgiveness and hope and I am grateful for the tears because they relieve my dry eyes and nostrils; an unexpected benefit.
Coming into Shanghai is fascinating. We fly over a vast muddy river mouth. In the distance through the smog I can see an amazing suspension bridge over the river. The city is so flat and brown and grey and stretches as far as the eye can see, even from that height. I wonder what it would be like to live in a city like this. Would you even know who you were? Inside the airport I'm impressed by how clean everything is, and how well dressed people are. You can get water from dispenser machines every 50 meters or so, but it only comes in three varieties, warm, very warm or hot, with little paper cones to drink it from. Still, it's wet and I'm still thirsty so I fill up my water bottle. Negotiating such a huge airport is a challenge, but I'm grateful when my suitcase appears on the carousel - it must be a sign of good things to come. I walk about a kilometer it seems, towing my bag. I can't believe I'm in China! The airport ceiling is an amazing feat of engineering. The Chinese people here all seem very slim and attractive although I see hardly any babies or children. In queues it's every man for himself and it makes me appreciate the Kiwi attitude of helping others and letting others go first. In general nobody acknowledges anyone else; we're simply occupying the same space. I guess you would learn to live like that when you are one of 150 million people in your city.Back on board with Dutch airline KLM, the cabin crew are rounded and blonde and jolly and look extremely Dutch. I feel like the lone Kiwi in a plane full of Chinese and Dutch people. This time I asked for an aisle seat so I can drink as much water as I need or want. It turns out to be an exercise in endurance because I've already been awake for 22 hours and this is a daytime flight. Am I the only person on the plane who can't sleep in a sitting position? A few times I go into a doze but am jolted fully awake by a baby crying out across the aisle or the man behind me pushing on my seat. These are even smaller seats than on Air NZ and I doubt that 50 percent of New Zealanders could fit into them. My legs are restless and I'm desperate to lie down, or to run; anything but more sitting. I manage to have a look out the window up front and we are flying over vast expanses of Mongolia. You can see the ridges and folds in the rock and I wonder what ancient processes formed it. We pass close to Ulaanbataar on one side and later Moscow on the other, and I wish I had a window seat... It's wasted on the girl in my row as she is peacefully sleeping, just like I wish I was, grrr!
Holland looks beautiful from the air, or at least the little I can see. We touch down and it's 7 pm. I find Schiphol airport nice but incredibly hard to find your way around. I am trying to find the Yotel where I've rented a cabin for the night. I'm so desperately tired and frustrated by lack of directions, walking all over the place trying to find my way or at least someone to ask. There are no information counters and the man I ask behind a bank counter is surly and gives me the wrong directions; even I can tell that's not the way I should go. So I start going in the direction he points me in but as soon as he's out of sight I turn another way. It still takes another 45 minutes and lots of walking, but I'm finally at the Yotel and I finally get to have a shower, how glorious - bless the person who invented showers. It feels so good to have clean hair.
The cabin is tiny but comfortable and Lionel and I should be able to get a good sleep. We need to be up at about 6.30 to give us a couple of hours to get ready and get downstairs to catch a train to church. Knowing my sense of direction it will take all of that time to find my way to the station :-)
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