Travel Blog – Spain - 10th November 2011
Yuri Gagarin was the first human being to both travel into space and to orbit the earth, aboard a Russian capsule named the Vostok, in 1961. Following the successful mission, he was widely quoted as having said “I don't see any god up here” during his sojourn in the cosmos; a common atheist and agnostic affirmation which adorns countless t-shirts and desktop wallpapers these days. As with so many of these all too convenient and well placed slogans, Gagarin never actually uttered these words. He was raised in the Russian Orthadox faith and as far as we know, he retained his belief in the supernatural until his tragic and untimely death in 1968 during a routine test flight. But before I discovered that Gagarin had been misquoted, I too had felt quite inspired and nourished by those six simple, yet all-encompassing words. They rang true with what I had felt for a long time.
As I type these words, I am sitting almost twelve-hundred miles from Dublin (I am not in space). Thanks to our wonderful family, we are lucky enough to be back in our home-from-home, Marbella; in southern Spain. As promised, this will be the post about my immeasurable love for Spain, it's wonderful people and for exploring this breath-taking world of ours*. I intend to write intermittently during our stay in Andalucia to try to record as many of those incidental but special moments that are all too easily forgotten and overshadowed by the time the suitcases are being unpacked, as well as trying to give an overall view of the more indelible reasons that will hopefully explain my love for this country.
*Don't expect a 'normal' holiday blog!
But for now, back to Yuri Gagarin. Why did I even mention a quote, wrongly attributed to an expired Russian astronaut? Let me explain....
I have written previously about my wanderlust and my love for flying in particular. No matter how many times I have been priviledged enough to be able to travel somewhere by air, it has never failed to completely astound and captivate me. I think the initial pulse-quickening sensation begins at the first glance of the airport... the intoxicating smell of the aeroplane fuel, and is rapidly heightened when I catch sight of one of those monstrous flying machines. I'm sure you know enough about the the basic history of flight and how astonishing the early contributions of Leonardo DaVinci, George Cayley and of course, the Wright brothers were in getting us to the point of aeronautical sophistication we are at today. It makes me so incredibly proud to be a part of the human race and to be able to say I am made of the same stuff as people who have created something as innovative and indomitable as these pieces of engineering genius.
The real christmas morning feeling comes at that slight pause right before take off. That moment right before the roar from the jet engines errupts and the thrust pushes you back against your seat.... as if the plane were an athlete taking one last deep breath before the crack of the starting pistol. But as I glance back momentarily into the cabin, I notice that at least 80% of my fellow passengers are either talking, reading magazines/newspapers, or staring with glazed expressions at nothing at all. (There are also a group of about 12 lairy Dublin lads, drunk and already being obnoxious and annoying. It's 7:30am).
It's not a huge plane, a modest Airbus A320, so pretty much everyone could see through a window and watch this stunning winter sunrise as our own beautiful country slips gently away through golden light and cotton wool-clouds; if they wanted to. I do realise that people are constantly distracted by their own stresses and concerns, that maybe the person next to them started the conversation and otherwise they might indeed be looking at the view with wonderment. Or maybe even that they are nervous or fearful about flying which counteracts any potential for fascination at anything related to aviation but I still don't understand why that percentage is so high.
Once boarding has FINALLY finished and everyone has FINALLY stopped faffing and sat down, and once we have taxied to the point of take off, I will not be moved, spoken to or distracted! To be lucky enough to be sitting where I am sitting right now is a priviledge that so many people will pass an entire lifetime having never experienced. I am not going to waste it. But as awesome and mezmerising as watching the people, houses, roads, towns, mountains and oceans disappear and reappear through layer upon layer of cirrus and cumulus clouds is, I am strongly reminded of Yuri Gagarin's misquote “I don't see any god up here”. What you can see, while ascending into the air, propelled by jet engines and the help of the scientifically measured, controlled use of airflow, in one of these marvelous attestations to the accomplishments of the homo-sapien, is anything but divine.
If you are lucky enough to witness the absolute magnificence of a sunrise while above the clouds, it is somewhat saddening to me, to think there is a need to see 'god' at the same time. I have always been so enticed and enthralled by the sunrise, much more than sunsets, and I honestly cannot understand why that pure beauty would not be enough for everyone. In times gone by, we might have looked up at that same gigantic ball of burning plasma and seen (and indeed, feared) Apollo, Ra, Mithras or Lugh, but now we have the benefit of humankind's ammassed knowledge about the sun and the chance to revel and bask in it! We know that the sun is a star which is not solid and is mostly made of hydrogen gas. That it is at the centre of our solar system, is roughly four and a half billion years old and that life could not survive without it. Knowing these facts, obviously, cannot take the slightest iota of grandeur or beauty away from watching a sunrise.
When I reference the misquote “I don't see any god up here”, I mean it in the most positive, curious, optimistic and inspiring way. I may be an atheist, but I completely reject any/all of the negative connotations that might be attached to that label (I hate labels.... but if I must have this one then I insist that it at least defines me correctly). I feel nothing but complete awe and excitement at the things we have discovered through science and what is still to be revealed.
Moments of disillusionment come when I notice things like 80% of my fellow passengers paying absolutely no attention to the wonderful sights they could see, should they only turn their heads and look out those cabin windows. How can the world fail to hold your attention and completely amaze you? I wonder how many of those people would say they are believers and whether there is some correlation between having a misplaced 'in case of emergency' religious allegiance and the seemingly increasing and baffling penchant for neglecting any curiosity or wonderment for the natural or man-made world? Is it just moral and intellectual laziness?
I certainly don't mean to suggest that people who have a genuinely devout faith in god are in some way immoral or lazy... I'm sure some of the 20% of passengers who are enjoying this sublime sunrise with me are probably pious believers, contemplating the glory of their maker, but I find this equally disillusioning. I just can't see the necessity to assign spiritual powers to such a beautiful thing that we can already explain conclusively through science. All the beauty and majesty we need is RIGHT THERE!
But I digress. Let's let Yuri and the words he never spoke rest for now. I sit here this evening on a picturesque tiled terrace, nestled in the shadow of the magnificent ex-volcanic mountain called 'La Concha (on account of it being shaped like a seashell) while the scent of some Iberian blossom gently curls through the cool, dusky air. A glass of sweet white wine waits patiently beside my laptop while I write, and as that same sun sets over the Sierra De Las Nieves and the occasional ring of a cicada's call sounds through the twilight, I feel a sense of peace that sadly, I haven't felt for a while.
Happiness is such a conditional thing, and while I feel extremely lucky and constantly grateful and fortunate for all I have, what I know and to simply be alive, life has been quite difficult lately. But self pity is something I don't do, and this evening really reinforces that feeling of just how lucky I am. To have seen the things I saw today, to have had the amazing experience of travelling nearly twelve hundred miles on one of mankind's most incredible creations, to have met and shared life stories with a most wonderful and fascinating homeless man from Dublin who lives at Malaga airport, to just sitting here smelling the flowers and listening to the insects. Morgan, if you ever read this, I hope you're somewhere warm, having a beer and feeling just as happy as I am. It was an absolute pleasure to meet you.
What a day.
To be continued......
