On Airports
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As of late, I have had time to reflect on a pleasant journey I embarked on. It was my first time travelling on an airplane completely alone! This was something I never thought I would enjoy, as I was certainly not looking forward to it. I imagined various instances of what could go wrong on such an expedition. I thought: What if I have to take a metro and get lost? What if there is a delay? What if I board the wrong flight like Macaulay Culkin? What if I say something awkward in conversation with the passenger next to me and then have to sit beside someone who knows how awkward I am for the next nine hours? What if that passenger next to me IS Macaulay Culkin?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
And then the day came. I had to face my fears.
It started dreadfully. My parents drove me to quite possibly the smallest airport in existence (Lincoln Airport in Nebraska) and, in order to make sure I knew the first thing about airports, my father asked me:
"Alright, Naomi. Should you go to the sign saying arrivals or departures?"
"Arrivals!" I confidently heralded.
It was the wrong answer. My parents looked at each other, doubtful of my ultimate survival of the day and, if I survived that day, the survival of my adult life. I said arrivals because I was arriving at the airport. Turns out, I had to depart from the airport to get to my next stop.
Denver.
In Lincoln, I got through the scary security people, sat down, and waited to board in peace, when I faintly heard that familiar line...
"What if I board the wrong flight like Macaulay Culkin?"
The thought flew around my brain like a housefly, but it soon stopped because there was one airplane in the entire airport, making the probability of this mistake improbably low. Missing my flight would have required genuine effort, as their system that day consisted of THE PLANE. And so, that housefly got eaten by a bird, and the bird got run into by a plane. No wonder my flight to Denver was a little shaky!
This is where the fun began.
Denver International Airport was ginormous. In fact, it was so big that it was the biggest airport I had ever been in alone. I had arrived in the same terminal I was to take off from, which was lucky because that meant I did not have to take the metro! Hooray!
I had only three hours before the next flight, which meant I had to find my gate straight away. Although I was in the same terminal, I still had probably a mile of walking to do because my gate was at the opposite end (and Denver is big). At least airports have those human conveyor-belts.
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| Something I had never seen before |
When I finally got there, I sat down and checked my watch to see I had two hours and forty minutes before take-off to Heathrow. By my parents' standards of airport timing, I had already missed the flight 😔.
And then I promptly left my seat to find the nearest Chick-fil-A.
There were many nice shops to pop into along the way, especially a nice bookstore in which I purchased a typewriter sticker and spotted some nice books.
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| The nice books |
As I strolled along, I heard the merry jingle of those mini airport go carts they never let me have a go on.
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| I did not take this photo |
I found the Chick-fil-A and ordered my last proper American meal right before leaving the country. A most dignified farewell.
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| The last supper |
I had a huge amount of walking to do back to my gate, and it was tempting not to look in every single shop along the way. I can see why people may lose track of time and miss their flights in Denver. Soon enough, it was time to board, and find my seat for the next ten hours.
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| My view did not change much |
There were many positives about this flight. First, I was served probably the most delicious cheese I've ever had. I believe it was a sort of cheddar, but it must have been smoked or something, because it had clearly been through a lot and probably spent years contemplating life. Also, I found that the person seated next to me was reading This Way Up: Where Maps Go Wrong And Why It Matters by Jay Foreman and Mark Cooper-Jones, AKA the Map Men book, AKA a book I also read and loved. We talked and I found she was just as much of a nerd as I am. But the plane landed and we had to say goodbye. The trouble was, I never asked for her name, and I am badly hoping it was not Macaulay Culkin.
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| A cheeky photo I took of the Map Men book |
I gulped as I made my way out of my seat. Heathrow surely would be tricky. What was I to do? Then I heard a voice from above...
"Follow the yellow signs for arrivals..."
Thankfully, all I had to do was scan my passport, collect my luggage, and be on my way! Turns out, airports are actually designed for people to find things. It was incredibly easy, and I was pretty sad to leave my airporting behind. Travelling alone and in a nice, easy area has been one of the best experiences I've ever had!
Take-Aways (sorry, I didn't mean food):
- Denver International is fantastic.
- Airports are designed for morons, and they're bloody fun!
Well, thank you for reading. I would recommend visiting the airports I have mentioned. I would also recommend intending to visit somewhere else and using the airports to go there, for then you may be allowed inside the airport.
How have your experiences travelling been? Do you prefer travelling alone, or with others? Leave a comment if you please, and I will reply! Safe travels! Except those of you staying at home.
~ Nay
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