When traveling back in time, it's an idea to relive all the past. That's what I was telling myself as I was preparing for this trip back to 1984. Back then, traveling was by bus. London to Paris and vice versa was an overnight chauffeured drive with a star-lit cruise on the "sleeve". Well, what do you know, the memory is way more refreshing than the trip today! How could I describe the experience? Taking three Easyjet flights in a row? Sleeping in a public lavatory all night? And then there is this great phenomenon. It's a kind of chain reaction, triggered by a survival reflex in each individual. Usually there is some fumbling involved but as soon as it kicks off, everyone is reaching for his. Seen from the side it's a true domino effect. As soon as the person sitting in front of you grabs the handle at the side of his seat and pulls it, the back of his seat comes flying at you, your knees get pushed down, anything in your hand gets flattened, an unmistakable panic grabs you and your only way out is to grab your handle and pull it, propelling you backwards and away from the incoming seat. And so a not-so-graceful ballet of backward propelled seat backs plays out, inevitably interrupted by the squeal of the always present person who can't find or doesn't have a handle and gets squashed. Claustrophobes avoid.
All-in-all it's a mightily uncomfortable trip. In fact I've taken the day off because I feel like sh**. Come to think of it, it feels like jet-lag. Of course some of you will think "he's getting old" others will look more at the cause than the effect and comment on what a brave (but stupid) idea it was to travel by coach. I would have to agree with all of you but definitely I will feel more fondness for the latter population.
I'll leave you with this thought: the older we grow, the more time seems to fly, which we can express by the following formula : the impression of time = time / age (which is time lived). If you can't get your mind around that, try this one : travel + no sleep = big head ache.