I look up to find an air hostess trying to hand me a piece of paper. Some kind of immigration form one needs to fill out before entering the country. Thanking her, I take it and the small disposable ballpoint pen with the airline logo on it. She pauses a moment, checking out the picture on my phone which had me completely mesmerised only seconds earlier.

“Your wife?” the air hostess asks.

“Girlfriend.” I look at the screen again, enjoying the little surge of excitement I feel inside whenever I see her photograph.

“She’s so pretty.”

“A few hours from now, she will be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”