Melt

In Doha it was a few minutes before midnight and the temperature was 35 degrees. I loved the wall of heat but I’ve rarely felt anything like it, especially at that time.

Some musings about air travel.

Why do they bother printing enticing menu cards advertising foodstuffs such as tangy pineapple compote when it’s a 1cm cubed blob that disappears down the gullet in milliseconds? Why the delusions of grandeur?

Why do people eat like gerbils on planes when it’s much easier to inhale the food and request a second tray? I’ve usually finished all of my items whilst my neighbour is still buttering the bread roll.

Why do people wait until the food cart is blocking the aisle and then demand that everyone performs contortions to facilitate their access to the toilet?

And the most fundamental of all.

Why has this monstrosity at Doha Airport persisted for so long?