Chris Dowding - writer

The old phone I’d brought with me was an unreliable heap of junk but it had one redeeming feature - it allowed me to select a network mode and frequency. I tried all three options without apparent success and dropped it in my pocket, grimacing. I would find out later that connecting an overseas phone to one of Colombia’s networks was highly unpredictable, but my priority now was to get to the boarding gate for my next flight. Provided I got to the flight, I could still make it to Lucas’ wedding in Medellin at 6PM. I politely made my way through the poorly lit Customs and Immigration area, full of black uniform wearing DAS officers and their grave expressions. I found the Avianca desk that Connie had told me to visit, and got a boarding pass for the flight to Medellin. I boarded bus between Bogota’s international and domestic terminals, and raced across the tarmac between planes and cargo vehicles. A tall girl with honey-coloured skin in her early twenties stood in front of me, wearin

The Avianca A319 Airbus destined for Colombia's capital, Bogota, waited on the taxiway at New York's JFK airport. I looked out my window and could see planes waiting on the intersecting taxiway – there were about nine other planes ahead of us. This gave me time to cast my eyes around the inside of my plane, as I always do. It was my first flight on a South American airline, so I was more than usually curious. Particularly as Avianca is a Colombian airline and Colombia is described by some as a third world nation. The interior looked clean and tidy. The air stewards and stewardesses were dressed in neat red uniforms. I had an interactive screen in front of me. I grabbed the controller for the screen: some airlines had satellite phones in these things, which would be great, because I needed to call Lucas to let him know I'd changed flights in an attempt to get to his wedding in Medellin on time. I was originally going to fly directly to Medellin and land five hours before th