Tuesday, July 31, 2012

75/365 airports

I have not flown a great deal, but have spent long hours in airports between flights.  Once, from NY to San Diego, I had a ten hour wait in L.A.  I could've taken a bus down for a couple of hours, but didn't realize it at the time.  I remember going outside to the parking lot to smoke a joint while waiting.
Airports have this similarity to each other, making you almost forget which place you're in. 
I remember Evie taking me to the airport in '84, after spending a brilliant time together for over six weeks.  We cried and cried.  The stewardesses could not console me, offering orange juice, I remember.
Getting off on the landing field was the unusual thing about San Diego.  I had gone from -5F to about 68F.  My first flight, that was -- non stop NY-SD.  It seemed like magic, the weather changing like that.
The lay over in Helsinki airport was several hours, too, waiting for a flight out to Roveniemi.  I sat in a lounge, drinking coffee, writing in my journal.  I had hours to roam around Helsinki a bit if I'd wanted to, but frankly I was afraid to go it alone .  Wuss.
So, I stayed in the familiar looking airport.  Listened to the different foreign voices around me.  Some sounding French, others German.  I ordered a beer and got Euros back in change.  That wasn't so familiar.
On the way back from Roveniemi, I waited alone in that tiny airport, with just one carousel for imcoming baggage.  Jorma had headed back home.

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