Fearbased flying

For the first time ever, I have had fear of travelling. Well, not ferar of travelling, but actually fear of NOT travelling. I have had all kinds of fantasies of world war 3, bombings, vulcanos preventing air traffic and stuff like that.

I do know why. I have wanted this for 3-4 years and along the way I have given up on it several times and thought to myself that this was way too much to ask for and of course it won’t happen. And here I am.

Packed my bag, got ready to stay 6 months in Tenerife, Spain – one of the Canary Islands where the temperature never gets below 20.

Sitting at the airport, Universe IS teasing me – my first flight to Gatwick is one hour and a half delayed.

I have plenty of time to enjoy my oysters and champagne rosé – don’t forget to get your zink – we all need it and oysters have it! 😉

Now I am no newcomer to this life. So I knew that it would be a good idea to plan having a few hours in Gatwick to not miss my connection. So my plane does not leave until 4.20pm.

But still. A little – just a tiny bit anxious about it. Will I go? Will I succeed in arriving in Tenerife tonight?

Still, I am grateful for the fact that I got this far.

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