I understand why business people lament the interminable hours they spend at airports and on airplanes; dead time in a dog-eat-dog world where time is money and money is God.
I, on the other hand, love it!
Airports, airlines, flying… while denotatively meaning one thing, connotatively it means different things to different people. In my dictionary it means freedom.
But not only freedom from modern concepts. It is also freedom to explore the world!
To be astonished by what waits for us at the destination point!
When I walk into an airport I undergo a metamorphosis. I moult. I become an Indigo Bunting.
Walking through the whoosh of an airport sliding door – as if by magic – the accumulation of tension, deadlines, injunctions, successes, failures, rivalry, jealousies and tasks slough from my body like a cicada escaping from a cocoon of dead skin.
Then on the aircraft where powerful engines build in pitch, rising to a crescendo with the plane hurtling down the runway, I allow my excitement to soar, imagining the new vistas that will open to me.
Sitting back, I exult in the opportunity to read the latest blockbuster on my Kindle. Whispering childish nonsense in my partner’s ear. Playing a game of Mahjong on my iPad. Fine-tuning our itinerary. Or simply nodding off, a smile on my lips and in my eyes, anticipating, drifting…
Dreaming of the new sights, tastes, smells and cultures about to become an intimate part of my personal frame of reference. The broadening of horizons so that even upon my return to the world falling away behind, I will always in my minds-eye be able to escape to the wide open spaces of my journeys abroad.