I have a seat with leg room, maybe i was first to book. I still have not shown my passport. Nobody cares if i am me. Unlike busses it looks as though atlantic airways depart early. Eleven minutes before departure and we taxi into position. I can see ground around but no mountains.
People talk about fishing, most say they will be pleased to leave the weather behind. I have non speaking companions and am happy not to face questions about how i have found the islands. It is unnerving taking off into fog. No views on arrival, helicopter flight cancelled by fog, nothing to see on departure. No aerial views for me in this land they call maybe maybe.
We bounce through turbulence with noise and vibration reminiscent of magnetic resonance machinery. The overhead screen dances to its own rhythm, hissing and spitting open, clicking and purring shut, four annoying beats a minute. i wonder what else malfunctions aboard.
Sun shines high above cloud, belies the foggy truth hiding below.
Thick woolly duvets skip over dark crumpled sheets. Half way there half way to go.
Dried salt lake cloud mass soon becomes fresh fallen snow with rivers of blue as land appears. Grey sheets now dazzlingly washed.
Thick woolly duvets skip over dark crumpled sheets. Half way there half way to go.
Dried salt lake cloud mass soon becomes fresh fallen snow with rivers of blue as land appears. Grey sheets now dazzlingly washed.
