I was in the shower today and a low-flying plane flew past the window and startled me. Partly because I wasn’t expecting anything to be up there in that clear blue sky. But I also realised that my little escape from the continent has left me with an aversion to air travel.

Sure, airports always sucked but a trip in an aeroplane used to have this excitement of adventure about it, a chance to climb into the tube and escape from reality. But now all that conjures is masks, hazmat bags, the unforgivable malice of the person leaving their mask down over their nose. Being stranded in a foreign country as the world ends.

It was one of those little culture shocks to be back in Brisbane and see a plane flying overhead for the first time like everything’s fine. It was like a little omen, there to remind us of our hubris. They still startle me, and I didn’t know why. But perhaps now I do.

Between corona and the climate I would happily never step foot in a plane again. I don’t think that’s realistic. But it’s a feeling.