I am at the airport, sitting at the gate, and waiting for my delayed flight to board. There is this guy, on the chair in front of me. He wears some velvet red trousers, and a black jacket. Kinda seventies. His Belgian passport, on the top of this overcoat, laying at his side. The boarding card, between the pages, and his name there, in open sight.
There is this girl, with a flowery pink dress covering her generous shapes, wearing a funny bear hat. She is reading something on her iPad, and has the boarding card open on her lap. I read her name, I guess she is German, but now-a-day, you never really know.
And two seats on the left, that cute girl — maybe too skinny, though. Her blue eyes running from one person to the other, and a funny look given by all those freckles. A Dutch passport, and her name on the hand luggage’s tag.
So, I am sitting here, my flight delayed due to unspecified reasons, enjoying the free wi-fi offered by the airport, typing all these names in my Facebook’s search tool. The guy with a retro fashion style pops out first. He seems to love skating, and beers. Not sure if he has a girlfriend. Sometimes he is portrayed with a girl, some other times with another one. Maybe, they are just his sisters, and he is gay. I will never know.
The chubby girl does not share much, on her public Facebook profile. A few pictures of her cats, one where she is wearing another funny hat. I guess she loves them. Interesting, she is a student at an American university. Or maybe she just wrote it on her profile. Things are not necessarily true.
The girl with freckles set things clear from the first picture. She is there, smiling at a tall guy with long hair. And he appears in all her photos. The guy looks kinda weirdo, though. I look at her, and yes, she looks kinda weirdo too.
Those times, when with my backpack
I was thinking at my first travels around the world, when with my backpack and an inter-rail ticket in the pocket of my jeans I was crossing Europe by train. Facebook did not exist, neither Internet did. I remember start talking with a Russian guy on a night train to Prague, or with a British girl traveling from Lisbon to Madrid. I still have their home addresses, written on the back of some used train ticket. And, in some old shoe-boxes, I keep some postcards many of these travelers sent me during those summers.
Now I sit here, with my laptop. One click away from the weirdo frecklish girl, the student with a funny hat, or the guy with red trousers. And I will probably not talk to them. They are all having hear-plugs, and some electronic device to keep them busy.
Maybe the world is smaller now. But I have some nostalgia of those old days.
These beautiful pictures were taken by imaginative photographer Joel Robison. Visit his blog to see more of his work: joelrobisonphoto.wordpress.com. Joel Robison has also a Facebook page: facebook.com/JoelRobisonPhotography