The Joy of Delay
Yesterday I was lucky enough to be stuck in Doha airport for a couple of hours. This had nothing to do with any Icelandic volcano and everything to do with a delayed FlyDubai take off in Dubai. I'd turned up at 2:30 pm to meet someone off a plane, only to learn from the arrivals board that it had still not taken off. Now before anyone tells me that following a week of total air chaos with thousands stranded for days, I shouldn't be complaining about a mere two hours, let me re-emphasise: I'm not complaining. I had a great time. In fact, I'm seriously considering adding the occasional hour in Arrivals to my routine, say once every couple of months. Because, from a vantage point close to the sliding doors, you are treated to a constant sucession of joyous reunions. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, friends and lovers. Waiters greeting the awaited. Eager anticipation exploding in a climax of smiles, handshakes, hugs and kisses. Even tears, but so unlike t...