The airplane was playing My Way, initially unrecogniseable as it was a pan-flute rendition but deciphered as we sat on the tarmac awaiting an incoming Qantas flight. I don't feel ready to be here, my French is terrible and I don't have enough money... it just doesn't feel like it's time yet. But here I am, on a 3.30pm flight to Kuala Lumpur with 6 empty seats to my right and now the checkered fields on the Peninsula out the window to my left. It's been a long time coming but nerves and a sense of sadness were enough to curb any outward signs of excitement. I even forgot the trashy gossip magazine I had planned, such was my state of mind.
It was an uneventful flight - possibly the most exciting thing was discovering the horrible pressure in my sinuses had dissapeared, closely followed by the second bag of peanuts I received. Oh, and realising I was on the same flight as the French Tour Down Under team was pretty good too.
Disembarking, I asked a girl who looked my age if she was travelling alone - she replied that she was, and asked if I was headed to Paris. When I said I was, she asked if my name was Kate. As it turns out, Collete (who has then same name as my French teacher) used to work at Cocolat and was told to look out for a girl with short dark hair on her flight. I was just looking for a chat but I ended up with a friend in Paris who is fluent in French.
The 4 hour wait in Kuala Lumpur was easy enough with someone to talk to and pretty soon we were boarding our flight to Paris. With the promise of a later visit, we settled 20 rows apart. I was more than a little excited to discover I had 5 vacant seats to myself, but Collete, on her promised visit, found me less than impressed with the large stranger stretched out on 3 of the seats 10 minutes into the flight. We never spoke, the Comfort Theif and I, but after some awkward moments where our feet touched, we silently reached a compromise re: personal space.
Vintage Sepia House Image!
1 hour ago