Changing Planes...

Ursula LeGuin has it right, Transit lounges ain't a lot fun...

We flew into Sydney between two layers of cloud with spherical rainbows all aroud us. It was like travelling the winterlands in search of the sunset. 'Cept apparently it was all a holding pattern. Sydney greeted us on the way down with a display of Lightning that illuminated the craters and crevices of the cloud below in wonderful after effects of light.

Upon landing the true hideousness of it all becomes apparent. There is something insidiously like Big Brother about the lounge as we all wait, some short, some long times, for something to happen but don't get me wrong just like the BB house there is always something stimulating happening, something commercial to integrate with, to avoid buying- but it all comes down in the end to the same thing- We all watch each other, smiling or frowning, interacting co-operatively or with aggression surrounded by thousands of other transients not going anywhere fast enough

They provide a place to sit, lay down, eat, shop, argue and flirt