With the talk of snow....Here's a short narrative I wrote, (one of many) a coupla years back whilst snowed in at the airport, trying to get home to my loved one. Well....anything goes here right! No Mans Land 22[SUP]nd[/SUP] December 2009. 02:00hrs "What flight are you hopeful to catch?" "18:50 to Amsterdam" And so the sequence of finding by mishap, brothers and sisters in the arms of travel chaos begins. Ordinarily these are the same people that would be happy to tactically snap your Achilles tendons with their well travelled wheelie cases just to get to the front of a queue. Airport tannoy; '…..please proceed to gate 39 for possible boarding' The hideous side of people should not be underestimated when one is in an airport, they will fight to be first at the boarding gate even where there is no plane to actually board. Any observer that has no previous experience of airport fever (and I wish I had that naivety) would judge that aeroplane seats are allocated through a system akin to musical chairs. 'The music has stopped, you weren't on the plane, sorry, try again next year for two weeks in Alicante. Go away and practice'. There really is a seat for everyone; I am a firm believer in that. I've never much cared for musical chairs at parties as a child, and really don't care for the games played in airports. However in the face of travel adversity, in this case, Europe is completely snow bound; the often rusty and stiff dial hand on the humanity meter can free up and measure a wind change toward camaraderie. *General Airport noise, voices, feet on marble.* Some of course face a different challenge…. "I won't rest you know" (in a Scottish accent) "No?" "My sleep routine is going to be disrupted, I'll never get to work on Wednesday, I'll not rest, I'll not get home" "I'm sure you will" "It angers me, we'll be hours in this queue, I'll not rest, my sleep routine is disrupted, the floors hard, I'll not get home" Heavily edited but I'm sure you get the picture. This chap is experiencing a very major disruption and the obsessive, repetitive, agitated and distressed manner by which he expresses his obvious perceived personal chaos suggests that it is in the context of probable Aspergers syndrome. By a very lucky chance indeed he has met up with folk that he is familiar with, from his home town. I'm sure this chaps evening would be worse without them, a great deal worse. One could not have prescribed a better tonic for him. A finding of friends made incredible by the nature of the smallest of chances against the greatest need for it to happen. People are asleep everywhere, lined and huddled against the walls and partitions like iron filings on a magnet. I would imagine they would need to be extraordinarily tired to able to sleep in this wheel rumbling, listless pedestrian micro world. That said judging by the incredibly loud and dis-inhibited flatulence performed by an inanimate traveller opposite, there is at least one that truly sleeps. It amuses and disarms the armed policeman as they saunter by. The queues of folk looking to find another seat on an alternative flight quickly personify what can only be called an 'uber queue'; they put all others to shame and deserve an exasperated respect. They are too powerful to challenge and any deviation from its order will result in instantaneous and lightening fast rebuke and retribution from its ranks. Though for the most part stoical is the theme; the occasional impressive display of patience and tolerance is exhibited by airport staff in the face of "fait accompli" and "what will be will be". You can understand why folk lose it, it is a testing time but one is much better off focusing on the calmer majority of this population, social soma. And so that gnawing and twisting of my insides creeps in. I should be being spooned by now or at least squeezed out of this chaotic never world of no mans land and into the arms of my long suffering and patient Margot. Be calm, be nice, be helpful and patient and karma will get you to your destination, pending snow on your chakras runway that is.