
The plane lands in Larnaca. Or Paphos.
You wait for the seatbelt sign to turn off – because you’re good like that; the air stewards don’t need to flap at you to sit down. As soon as allowed, you wrestle into the aisle, excavate your bags, shuffle into line.
And then you wait…
Eventually, the doors open. And, even though you haven’t moved (pinned in as you are by a






