T. E. Lawrence
Airsick…as in, I’m Sick of Flying
Well, as promised, Devoted Readers (both of you) I am not writing this week’s entry from the comfort of my wood-stove-warmed garden room at the farm. Instead, I am in the Domestic Arrivals terminal at Fukuoka International Airport, Japan. It’s an airport, and it looks just like any airport in America except that the signs have strange symbols on them and most of the people have dark hair.
