Would you like my window seat?

We are 36,000ft in the air and the announcement comes over the tannoy:

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if you look out to the left side of the aircraft, there is a brilliant view of the Austrian Alps”.

I’m that person on a plane who is happy to give up their window seat. It’s not that I don’t want to see the views. I really do, but looking out of the airplane that high up as it’s tilting is guaranteed to do two things: make me panic and make me throw up.

Wandering Beeb is the opposite. He’s quite happy looking out of the window and taking photos, snapping away and telling me all about what he can see below.

I’m not the greatest on planes anyway – I tend to think that they only stay up in the air based on the power of wishful thinking, so anything that reminds me of how high up we are is a bit ‘no no’.

On this particular flight, however, I really want to see the Alps. I’ve looked out of the windows on purpose once before, as we headed into Vegas. It was night time and we were flying in over the strip. Instead of paying for a helicopter ride, we were able to see the whole of the strip as the plane made its approach to the runway. I was persuaded to take in the view after much discussion and whilst it made me feel quite sick, I was really glad for the experience.

This time, as the Alps passed below us, I took the decision to look out without any cajoling or discussion. It was beautiful. The line of the mountains and the colours of the sky were stunning. I manage to peek out long enough to see the snow-capped tips of the mountains against the horizon and to pass my phone to Wandering Beeb to take a couple of shots.

A big achievement for me, despite feeling a mixture of vertigo, sickness and fear. A beautiful site and a proud moment. Something to remember the next time I’m eager to pass up that window seat.

Travelling isn’t a Destination, it’s A State Of Mind

The snow and winds this week in the UK from ‘The Beast From The East’ and ‘Storm Emma’ have shaken things up and forced people away from their usual routines. We were fairly lucky in our part of the country, we got away with very little disruption. Regardless, buses still stopped, roads became an ice rink and the world was clouded with blankets of white.

There were some out of this world photographs of the snow and ice shared on social media and it got me thinking – many of these photographs were of things that were right outside the front doors of the people who took them. They weren’t pictures of far away vacations or new streets in a different city. They were pictures of the familiar, the everyday or the mundane. The snow and ice had turned something ordinary into something suddenly different. Something worth photographing.

A bridge lit up at night gives a different perspective of a familiar place

I had a similar experience with a night out at a local pub recently which turned into a walk across a cold bridge whilst waiting for a taxi. I drifted along the path, chatting away with my cousin and trying to stay warm until the taxi arrived. The lights from the bridge and the clear night sky, filled with stars grabbed my attention. I whipped out my camera to try and capture what I was feeling. It was the same emotion I get from travelling to somewhere new – excitement and awe in equal measures.

Taking photos in familiar situations can still create a feeling of exploration.

Standing there on the bridge, watching the lights traverse the structure, it made me think of the reasons I travel. I travel to see new places, experience different cultures and see things from a different perspective. Most of all, I travel to explore my own emotions and to get a better sense of who I am. That night a very familiar bridge turned into a travel destination and I realised that travelling is a state of mind rather than a place. Sometimes you don’t have to travel very far at all to learn more about yourself.