As i do my inadvertent packing for yet another trip I come to confirm my love for flights, the longer the better. It gets worrying though that i come to a verge whereby i feel the need to actually plan what i want to accomplish on the relatively long flight. so 13 hrs can get me either a real good sleep, arriving at Heathrow impossibly fresh or tying up the pain-in-the-arse assignment so that i will not come back with an impossibly unmanageable post-vacation blues or indulge in the fine realm of Krisworld that is almost impossible to go missing it by. so see what i mean? no itinerary, everything will be as messed up as Ek's hair.
so now, of german riesling and frank kafka, i bid adieu ever so temporally to all those out there who had wish me well. one week!
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