Today in France, the world’s new largest passenger plane, the mighty Airbus A380, completed its maiden four hour long test flight!

The giant is 239 ft long, has a 261 ft wingspan, and a height of 79ft! Its two full length wide body decks, 166 ft long and 23 ft wide, framed by 220 windows and 16 doors, will accommodate over 550 passengers in a standard 3-class version and up to 800 in a « Pack’em up like sardines » configuration.

At full weight, the plane will still be able to travel 8000 miles at close to the speed of sound.

But don’t let these staggering numbers eclipse the essence of this magnificent machine: only 101 years after the Wright brothers, we are putting something in the sky that is so big that it wouldn’t even have floated back then had it been a boat, so daring that it wouldn’t even come to the great imaginations of Da Vinci and Vernes, so beautiful that it makes me, for a change, proud of our little ants-like race of clowns...

Way to go Airbus!

I accept no fate, no fear, no limits.
But I’ll take a coffee, thank you.

The coconut telegraph still works: I heard Mathieu was born yesterday, April 25th, in Grand Cayman! His parents Sabine and Marc must be in heaven. What an extraordinary development in a fascinating journey! I wish all three of you the best of the best!

The streets were shining, low lingering clouds reflected the city lights and I kept stepping into puddles.

Continue reading "Rainy night in Montreal"

« Mon pays, ce n’est pas un pays, c’est le printemps... »

It’s here. Spring is at our door. Quebec is emerging from under its heavy snowy blanket and liking what it sees. Soon, flowers will bloom and the sun will allow for great paragliding. Now that’s what really matters!

I haven’t done much in terms of blogging since my departure from Little Cayman, mostly for technical reasons. My laziness is very technical, you see. The laptop it still out for repair, and the digital camera hasn’t yet come out of my luggage.

As expected, the culturo-climatological shock (with emphasis on the logical stem) has been hard. My feet are complaining inside of shoes all the time. My skin is dried up by the crisp cold air. Three cats in the house are making my eyes cry and my nose itch permanently. In the paper today, tales of war and of waste, but I turned right over to the TV page...

And then there is family and friends, lots of love and warmth, and untiring Yann There’s normal food and great micro beer. There’s a long forgotten affection for Jean’s and sweaters. And there’s the promise of what’s to come...

So soon photos will appear back here to document the journey. I’ll just need to catch my breath a little longer, and manage to stop staring in awe at the puzzle around me, jaw gaping and eyes wide. It’s only the real world, after all...

« If there is a TOURIST SEASON, how come we can’t SHOOT them? »

[With a wink to all my tourist friends, and keeping in mind that I will soon be one too...]

The time has come. Boxes have been shipped ahead. The Lighthouse Condo #1 sits by the sea, empty and lifeless. Everything has been sold or given away. A few people are still arguing about who gets my silly U.N. helmet.

I have retracted into my shell, a protective bubble that insulates me from the insular world which used to flow through my veins. The sea has become a distant element, the reef an abstraction. Dive boats are passing by in a never ending ballet, right, left, out and back in. They illustrate perpetual motion.

I find myself backing out of conversations, fading in the background, letting the words buzz around me and blend into white noise. Their meaning no longer matters, for they speak of the sun and the weather and the sea and the gossip. They won’t reach where I’m going, or if they do, they’ll carry news of a foreign land.

I’ll be airborne in two days, and arrive in Canada in three. Now’s the time to wish me Godspeed!