In transit

The flight from Heathrow to Philadelphia takes 7 to 8 hours and isn't a lot of fun. British Airways seats are grim and the food is worse - something labelled 'pear compote' had the look and consistency of sweetened shaving foam. I envied the Orthodox Jewish father and son who tucked into their mysterious sealed Kosher trays beside me.

Any attempt to watch a film on these miniature screens is fruitless since both sound and vision are all but non-existent. However for me nothing beats the excitement of seeing the flightpath millimetering across the map towards the east coast of America. The names of other airports marked, like Godthab in Greenland and Bridgetown Barbados, entice me too and engender dreams of endless travel.

But my destination is in no doubt just as my starting point was fixed, it's the journey between the two that fluctuates. Just like life itself.