Back to Europe

On May 5th, I finally hand over Shelly in the morning and say goodbye to Elena and Connie with Millie and Tilly. I have a 14-hour flight from Sydney to Abu Dhabi ahead of me. My seat is by the emergency exit. Nice for legroom, but also right in front of the toilets and right in front of one of the few free seats on an airplane.
Everyone knows that you should move around on long-haul flights to prevent thrombosis. But what is being celebrated here is extremely interesting. After just 30 minutes, the first people eager to move are milling around right in front of me. They are stretching with a lot of enthusiasm but little mobility.
The angles at which they work indicate that the last session was several light years ago. There's no way they would think of doing something similar in the office even once during an 8-hour working day. But here, everything is given. Unfortunately, many people don't seem to realize that although they can't see me when they turn their backs to me while they're doing adventurous trunk bends and stretching attempts, their bottom is at eye level for me.
The ingenuity of not touching the toilet door with one's hands out of sheer disgust is also remarkable. But when you see that those who are so reluctant to touch the door are practically barefoot, you want to shout out loud: No, that's not just water on the floor!

There was a 10-hour layover at Abu Dhabi airport, from 11 p.m. to 9 a.m.

Attempts to sleep fail. Because of the brightness, the noise, because I just can't sleep here. Too uncomfortable, too old for this shit.

As the sun rises, this shiny, sparkling clean and ultra-modern airport comes back to life. Friendly, helpful people everywhere, doing what they need to do to make it look the way it does.

And like everywhere else, there are people here who leave you frowning.
I'm sitting at a small coffee table in the Etihad Lounge with a coffee when a man sits down next to me and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, not only unplugs my phone from the charger to plug in his, but then takes off his shoes and puts his feet on the table next to my coffee.
-Does the fact that you are travelling and probably no one knows you here exempt you from any sense of decency?

My flight to Athens finally takes off shortly after 9. The Hindu next to me orders a whiskey and coke for breakfast. I think that's a good idea and follow his example. Now just 5 hours of flying and we'll almost be there. The Hindu is asleep, I'm not. I'm like a little kid. I've crossed several time zones again. I'm now 7 hours ahead of my time from yesterday. Things change again in Athens.