That time I got sick at 10.000 metres

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As a person who loves to travel, I have logged a considerable amount of hours spent on a plane, especially over the past ten years of my life. Since I have mostly traveled around Europe, most of my flying experience is short-haul on planes no larger than a B737. Despite my irrational fear of takeoffs (I really dislike that feeling of weightlessness as the plane breaks the laws of gravity) and the uncomfort of the occasional light turbulences, I can say that I actually like to fly and have enjoyed every time I have been airborne. Except for one time, when I got seriously ill in the middle of a six-hour flight. Continue reading

The sleeping pod experience at Helsinki airport

I love airports. I love everything about airports. Their timelessness, placelessness, the way they always seem disconnected with the world outside. They’re transit places, frontier spaces, concrete representations of the neither here nor there. Although 95% of the times I transited through an airport it was to catch a flight within Europe, sometimes I ended up being stranded there for hours, at times my layovers being longer than the actual flights. Every time I did so, it was because this was the cheapest way.  Continue reading