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For the past 2 hours I’ve been dwelling mid-air above a calm, bright sea of white, cotton candy clouds.

Vivid images of casualties of cross-Atlantic crusades are safely tugged away in the books of history, and the hunger for the land of milk and honey has been staved off by a club soda, a chicken breast with risotto and season salad, a complementary cracker and cheese, and a chocolate chip cookie.

120 years ago, the people now 30,000ft below me, securely screened underneath the friendly skies, would have risked their life to cross the very same waters for the mere dream of a fresh potato. This goes to prove, like anything else, there’s a past and there’s a future – a prologue and an epilogue. First come the prologue…

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