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.