It's not down in any map; true places never are.
Fun fact: I have always loved traveling. Yes, this homebody-if-you-ever-knew-one enjoys voluntarily packing her belongings (though not very well and rarely under the weight limit) and hitting the road (air).
At the risk of sounding nauseatingly trite and cliched, it's not as much the destination that fascinates me but the actual traveling experience. There is something romantic about airports. Time stands still and you feel as if you are neither here nor there. You find yourself in a tornado of the hustle bustle of others -- businesspeople's day trips, infamous family vacations, students, athletes, covert operations -- so far removed from your own life. For the brief hours of travel, there is nothing expected of you. The airport, and the soon to be air, is quite literally, your chance to be away from it all.
There is also nothing like waiting at the gate for a flight to take off. It's a middle ground between what just happened and what's to come. A time to reflect. It's that sort of good anticipation that you want to prolong. A time that you can wholeheartedly look forward to the vacationing or the homecoming.
And it's not only airports. From the second you are fastening your seat belt to the moment you are stowing your tray tables and bringing your seat back to its upright position, everything is just so unreal.
I'm not living in a complete fantasy world though. I realize that the Transportation Security Authority isn't exactly going for unicorns and cotton candy. Nearly stripping down to my birthday suit in preparation to dance through security isn't exactly something I dream about at night. And the whole no outside food or drinks thing is a bit anal. But you know what? The "leave it all behind" sentiment kind of sets the mood, one which museums and theme parks spend millions of dollars trying to create. To invent an experience similar to one a pharaoah in Ancient Egypt would have had as he walked by a pyramid (I obviously know nothing about Ancient Egypt. Let's let that slide.), for example. Point being, you leave your camera and bags at the door and enter this alternate universe. Trashing your water bottle at the threshold of a metal detector isn't a perfect parallel, but I'm going for half full.
Unfortunately, as the years go by, air travel is slowly becoming more and more dissected into only the necessary parts. The form of the plane may be becoming more streamlined, but so is the travel experience. The world as we know it is being slimmed down. No more fluff. Just another process.
One by one, we, stripped to the bone, pass through the metal detectors. It's only a matter of time before all aspects of our life are machine-like. Only when I step back to think about what, in my short life, "used" to be, do I really miss it. I don't know if I'm ready to move forward. But when I am, I won't even be able to go all the way to the gate to say goodbye to what "was".
At the risk of sounding nauseatingly trite and cliched, it's not as much the destination that fascinates me but the actual traveling experience. There is something romantic about airports. Time stands still and you feel as if you are neither here nor there. You find yourself in a tornado of the hustle bustle of others -- businesspeople's day trips, infamous family vacations, students, athletes, covert operations -- so far removed from your own life. For the brief hours of travel, there is nothing expected of you. The airport, and the soon to be air, is quite literally, your chance to be away from it all.
There is also nothing like waiting at the gate for a flight to take off. It's a middle ground between what just happened and what's to come. A time to reflect. It's that sort of good anticipation that you want to prolong. A time that you can wholeheartedly look forward to the vacationing or the homecoming.
And it's not only airports. From the second you are fastening your seat belt to the moment you are stowing your tray tables and bringing your seat back to its upright position, everything is just so unreal.
I'm not living in a complete fantasy world though. I realize that the Transportation Security Authority isn't exactly going for unicorns and cotton candy. Nearly stripping down to my birthday suit in preparation to dance through security isn't exactly something I dream about at night. And the whole no outside food or drinks thing is a bit anal. But you know what? The "leave it all behind" sentiment kind of sets the mood, one which museums and theme parks spend millions of dollars trying to create. To invent an experience similar to one a pharaoah in Ancient Egypt would have had as he walked by a pyramid (I obviously know nothing about Ancient Egypt. Let's let that slide.), for example. Point being, you leave your camera and bags at the door and enter this alternate universe. Trashing your water bottle at the threshold of a metal detector isn't a perfect parallel, but I'm going for half full.
Unfortunately, as the years go by, air travel is slowly becoming more and more dissected into only the necessary parts. The form of the plane may be becoming more streamlined, but so is the travel experience. The world as we know it is being slimmed down. No more fluff. Just another process.
One by one, we, stripped to the bone, pass through the metal detectors. It's only a matter of time before all aspects of our life are machine-like. Only when I step back to think about what, in my short life, "used" to be, do I really miss it. I don't know if I'm ready to move forward. But when I am, I won't even be able to go all the way to the gate to say goodbye to what "was".
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