Airport

I have a love-hate relationship with airports. On one hand, they are the jumping off place for many great journeys. But on the other hand....

1)I was supposed to meet a friend at the Vancouver Airport today. He was flying from Quebec to Vancouver, then to Castlegar and I thought I would go and visit him during his stopover. I was all excited, because this is the only chance I will get to see him for at least a year. Alas, it was not to be. After waiting for an hour, frantically searching the pods of flyers exiting the arrivals gate, I attempted having him paged. In the bustle of the airport, we missed each other. From an info desk employee, I found out that a security risk had been posed, and most flights were delayed.

This made me wonder. I am a firm believer in fate, but this situation was just a little weird. I tend to think that everything happens for a reason, but what was the reason for this? Why did I have to build up my excitement for weeks, get up and waste 5 hours of my day all for naught?

2)Seattle Airport, May of last year. I was returning from a trip, and our group was squished into two rental minivans. Alas, my shoes and socks, in the hungover haze of the morning had been packed in the other van, which had arrived at the airport sometime before my van. I had to spend half an hour walking around the airport barefoot, until I finally tracked down my shoes. Once I finally got them, I went to the bus depot only to see my departing bus drive past me. Realizing the next bus wasn't coming for 3 hours, and my group was taking planes out, I set myself up for a lonely stay at the airport. Then came the goodbye. Utterly empty inside, I had no idea what to say as the person I loved kissed me, and walked away towards security, leaving me. Three hours with nothing to do is horrible any time, but worse when your heart has just broken.

3)LA Airport, August of last year. LAX is possibly the most confusing airport I have ever been in, especially on my first trip alone. I felt all smart and grown up, planning, paying for and departing on my very first solo trip. Confident, as I landed in LA that I would easily be able to find the gate for my connecting flight, I allowed myself to calmly saunter into the terminal. Walking down the hall, my heart rate quickened, as I walked around like a chicken with my head cut off, searching for the United Airlines gate. To compound my anxiety, I could find hide nor hair of an airport employee to assuage my desperation. Finally, I found someone, who instructed me "Okay, you have to walk through that set of doors over there. Go down the second escalator, not the first, the second. Take it two levels, turn to your left. Go out the doors, cross the first road, but not the second. Go to a green sign and wait for bus "A". Take bus "A" as far as you can go, get off, go through security, and you will be in the correct terminal."Wow!! Easy, novice traveller friendly airport! Out of breath and in a cold sweat, I finally reached my gate with an hour out of my 2.5 hour stopover left.

Airports. Gotta hate them. But at the same time, I love them. Inside, it's like a special little world, for the privelidged few travellers. This morning, I saw a Japanese school group all dressed in uniforms, Chinese travellers posing for pictures with merchandise in the gift shops, tanned elderly couples, tearful goodbyes, and smiling hellos. I saw worried travellers hurrying to pick up bags and catch flights, little children clutching ragged stuffed animals, tired looking stewardesses, and disgruntled queue'ers. Airports seem to be the beginning and end of everything, the start and end of every fabulous journey.