Australia Part One: The (Mel)bourne Identity

I wake up, not really knowing where I am.

Confused, a bit panicked, I squint around me, trying to figure out what had happened. Ah, yeah, plane. I am sitting in a plane. Middle row, middle seat. It’s loud. It’s dark. My mouth is dry like the desert. People around me are snoring or staring on their touchscreens, half-asleep or at least hypnotized, slowly bringing one cracker after another to their mouths. I feel the need to make sure that I didn’t slobber on my seat neighbors shoulder. No, no stains. At least nothing visible. Would be too late, anyway. I can hardly believe what just happened: I fell asleep in a plane. For longer than just one minute. Me, who is still suffering from this “I get wet hands and say silent prayers every time it gets a bit bumpy” kind of flight anxiety, even after many years of travelling. How could that happen?

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