I am twenty minutes away from the Barajas airport in Madrid, on an Iberia Airlines flight. Fortunately I have an aisle seat.
The people on the plane are a nice potpourri of various travelers–next to me sits a couple from South Africa, in their 40s. They carefully sit, carefully eat, and carefully watch the inflight movie; with their gray hair and gray stares.
The young blonde girl two rows down from us is playing with her hair, getting the front of it back into a pinned twist, just so. She is noticeable mostly because she is blonde, young, and good looking. The boy with her is a lesser douchebag (as opposed to major) with only a few douchebaggy qualities: (1) a permanent half scowl, (2) half-turned hat, and (3) a perfectly put-together clothing ensemble, complete with faux street graffiti tee shirt. He has his training wheels on, soon he will remove them and move on to overly tanned skin, bluetooth earpieces, and white shoes.
A certain numbness, a kind of disbelief pervades me. Perhaps I’m a jaded traveler now but it doesn’t feel like a vacation yet. But I can smell it, just like I can smell the perfume of the gorgeous Spanish women on the plane, scattered around like impossible flowers in a meadow.
Me and my mate exchange jokes to melt frozen time, watching it drip away minute by minute.
Smells on the plane always come in cycles.
- Stale baseline plane smell
- Whiff of airplane food that always smells the same
- Unknown bodily function smell (was that from the toilet?)
- Actual smell of airplane food from cart or from tray
- (Bonus) Smell of shit as someone changes their infant’s diapers right next to you, or behind you, with an apologetic air (too bad it doesn’t smell better).
- See #1
At this time, 15 minutes before the flight lands, I am smelling #3, UNKNOWN BODILY FUNCTION SMELL. When I smell this, I dart my eyes quickly around, almost as if to catch someone squirming in their seat, post-fart, with a guilty expression on their face. I don’t see anyone.
When we touch down in Madrid, eight hours later and still carrying recycled air and smells from Washington DC, we will all exhale, the plane, the passengers, exhale and open to tumble down the concourse and into the land of bears.
