Airports

On my last trip I spent a lot of time in Airports. Vancouver, San Francisco, Frankfurt, Dublin, Newark, Montreal. I slept in Vancouver airport Christmas eve, on my return, because I got in so late I didn't want to wake anyone up. I found a nice little dark bench by the fountain, made a nice little bed for myself, and had a good sleep. Woke up, and it was still dark out, I felt rested and figured it must be six am, and I packed my stuff to go get the sky train and bus to the ferry so I could drive home. After packing everything I looked at my cell - it was 2am. I'd slept for 2 hours. Sigh.

A friend drove me from Kilkenny to the Dublin airport the morning before, to get there for 7:40 for my 9:40 flight. Flight was delayed, so I had a final Guinness and wrote in my journal. Meditated and slept on the planes, was pretty tired, no-one seemed to wanna talk. On my way to Europe had an hour and fifteen minute stop in Frankfurt. But my flight was late getting in, so it was more like 50 minutes to get through security and to my next take-off. A very helpful little older lady with a thick African accent (who worked there) instructed me to open the gate, jump the que, and run. I did, it was kinda fun to sprint through an airport, I felt like I was in a movie! And it was the only moment in the whole trip when I was glad I had worn running sneakers, otherwise I felt like a hick.

Newark airport was cool - everyone had New York accents, and was friendly and gruff. No bullshit there. As close as I've come to being in New York City. One day, one day..

Life is about airports, a series of airports. Heaven may smell like the airport. Although I may never get that proven...

Everything that begins, ends. Our lives and every association, project, dream, we ever have. We get on a plane and leave it one day, and that plane lands somewhere else. Somewhere previously unknown to us.

Dublin was my favourite - it's small and simple and smells a bit funny, like airports used to be, instead of the huge corporate well-oiled machine they are now, where we are smoothly and seamlessly herded from one destination to another, and sold lots of stuff on the way. Vancouver isn't bad. I had an awesome smoked meat sandwich in Montreal airport though - a high point in that day and a half of flat-out travel.

Come. Go. Life is a series of airports. I love them because I love the change they represent - leaving things behind, and embracing new things; the unknown.