‘Do you like soccer?’ asked the tanned bald headed Brazilian man sat beside me. I had been in my seat on the plane for fifteen minutes listening to a group of fourty Brazilians raucous laughter and jolly conversation, quietly worrying to myself that this was a taster of what was to come on my eleven hour flight from Paris to Sao Paulo, when Marcelo introduced himself. I could feel the tension in my shoulders ease as we launched into a pleasant but disjointed conversation. But this smiley chap’s broken English did not stop him – his enthusiasm was contagious and I found myself flicking through photos of his trip to Israel shortly after we had taken off. As I scrolled through, I admired the beauty of Jerusalem and began to feel a fondness for Marcelo who had taken me under his wing and distracted me from the leg crunching economy class seats. My time on the flight flew by and as I pulled my suitcase off the carrousel, I looked back to wave goodbye to …