Modern air travel is a rite of passage.

While international travel is still restricted to those of some means, it is nevertheless the great leveller among those who can afford it. Its processes and exigencies are borne by all sorts and conditions of people, transforming them into a new identity: the passenger.

The process begins well before arrival at the airport. Whether one “travels light” or brings luggage to rival an imperial progress through an outer province,  one has to try to imagine every contingency, determine what one cannot do without, second guess the unforeseen, and finally submit these decisions to the inexorable logic of the suitcase’s available space. Any anxiety about whether it will ever again be possible to organize and fit these articles into the suitcase can be relieved by recalling that airport security may well bring about such a trial in the presence of hundreds of other passengers standing in a growing queue behind you.

At the airport the rite of passage begins in earnest. The place itself could be anywhere and nowhere. Natural signs such as day and night are erased. The human person is defined as homo consumer. Glittering objects in stores and duty free shops beckon. Luxury items you would never have looked twice at become beguiling, alluring articles. But all that is put behind you as officialdom requires that you declare your identity repeatedly. Your slightly anxious smile is compared with the grim looking photos in your travel documents. You declare your intentions – where to, why, for how long – over and over. Will those packing decisions come back to haunt you? Perhaps the toothpaste in the carry on will be mistaken for gelignite. We shuffle forward to be scrutinized, x-rayed, perhaps searched bodily (God forbid there be a cavity search!).

Having passed that hurdle, we find ourselves in the liminal zone known as the departure lounge.  Generally graceless, featureless, and uncomfortable, the space is designed to test once again the sincerity and depth of your intentions.

At last, the next great moment comes: embarkation. Seat numbers and other documents are scanned once again. There can be a few moments of surprise here. Basic counting skills appear to have been missed by some folk. How is it that “one” piece of carry-on luggage becomes for some a steamer trunk/garment bag/guitar case/backpack assemblage? For those in economy class, there is a new revelation of what some airplane designer decided is a seat suitable for every shape and size of humanity.

Finally, hurtling through the air at unimaginable speeds, we share one another’s recycled air, dine on identically tasteless foods, and try to time our visits to the washrooms around turbulence, service trolleys, and the simultaneous effect of alcohol on many bladders.

At last, we arrive. Proud bearers of new air mile points, we disembark to face a final few challenges. Will we be reunited with our luggage? Will the encounter with customs and immigration be serene, humiliating, or fraught? And then, on to the new adventure.