Ashes to ashes

SO, at the moment I’m one of the hundreds of thousands of passengers affected by the cloud of volcanic ash hanging over the UK, causing an aviation lockdown unparalleled since 9/11 (and perhaps before that). Waiting here in Oxford for the next flight out of Heathrow heading Kenya-way, its weird not to see the sky full of contrails or hear the distant rumble of aircraft hurtling through the high atmosphere.

With no sign of the ash shifting, and nothing flying for at least 2 days (so it will be nearly a week since scheduled flights were grounded), it makes me think that maybe we are heading for a world without planes, as discussed by Alain de Botton on the BBC website yesterday – though perhaps its unlikely. We’re much too dependent on them by now – and where would all those stag parties go? Dublin by boat? Prague by train? Hmmm. I’m also reminded of a startlingly prescient story by EM Forster, written in 1909, ‘The machine stops’ (it can be downloaded here), which tells of a highly technocratic society facing extinction because one night, the ‘machine’ supplying all society’s energy simply switches off. Permanently.

If this did happen, developed countries would implode; developing regions on the other hand would be more likely survivors, being less dependent on the technology underpinning all our activities up here in the northern hemisphere.

Whatever: I doubt my booked flight will leave Wednesday. Like the growing number of non-travel malcontents, I’ll be searching for someone to blame. Wait. There IS  no-one to blame. Not even the Tories. Well, with spleen-unvented, at least I can catch up on my emails.

Until the machine stops, of course.