March 15th, LAX
I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out. They are prowling now, Starbucks in hand. Circling Anna’s empty chair, probing for weakness. I preempt the question with a second propped bag. Ah, the cut-throat cruelty of the airport lounge.
Yet at the same time people are fighting to retain their chair fiefdoms, they also place a huge amount of trust in total strangers. I’m sitting in LAX’s terminal 4, watching worldly possessions for strangers while they talk to gate agents or use the restroom. Trust is an interesting thing. Statistically, they are on solid ground. If you involve someone directly with your plight, they will often act on your behalf, though they have no direct motivation to do so. Is it part of what has kept us around for so long as a species, quick empathy and the lightning quick speed at which we band together? Or left-over omniscience complexes – our propensity to act noble when we believe we are being watched.
Everyone also seems to reacts the same way to a man with a gun scooping poop. I’m not sure if it is a case of badgered travelers getting pleasure seeing security inconvenienced, or just the simple fact that poo is funny. Either way, everyone got a giggle out of cops wiping down tile after their sniffing partners squatted.
After some entertaining luggage shuffling between overhead bins, we are heading towards Miami. I’ve got sound blocking headphones on, but the AA announcements are still shrill. I’d be happier if they displayed videos of plane crashes to motivate attention spans, rather than cranking volume. I suspect their sales department might disagree. From Miami we will head to Madrid, stumbling off the plane at 8:30 AM local time. Definitely not the time my body will believe it is.
I’m packing some medicinal aids for sleep for the first time in my travels. Evidence shows you can help reset your internal clock by exposing your eyes to direct light when you arrive at your destination. Slight does of caffeine, melatonin, and a number of other things can also help. However, true to American culture, I’m not satisfied with just that. I’ve looked deep into my heart and have decided to support those in dire need – the pharmaceutical industry. I’ll be taking three nights of temazepam. Since it is only in your system a short time, it is supposed to help with jet lag. Without the help of caring people like you and I, how will they maintain massive profits? Do your part by developing a chemical addiction today.
Unfortunately, we will only be in Madrid for a day. Just enough time to grab some jamón and pop in the Prado before we have to hitch a ride on the train to Valencia to meet up with Colan and Pete. We will be arriving near the end of the Las Fallas festival, but should have plenty of time to get our fill of fireworks and each neighborhood’s giant figures before they go up in toxic smoke on the night of the 19th. From there, the plan is to Barcelona, then we split up. Anna will stay and explore Spain and maybe, Portugal. Colan, Pete, and I will head on to Rome, Florence, Paris, and London. At almost 4 weeks, it will be a long time to be away from home and work, but already it seems too short.
Europe is the typical destination for college aged folks – before and after school. It sometimes seems strange that I’ll turn the ripe old age of 30 on my first trip to Europe. I’ve tried to do a lot of traveling the last six years, it just hasn’t been to Europe.
Part of the issue has always been cost. This trip will probably cost close to the same as our trips to Peru, Costa Rica, Cambodia, and Vietnam combined. I’ve always gravitated towards travel where I get a lot for my dollar. But I think it has also been much easier to sway me to visit somewhere completely different from my home. The more foreign and exotic, the better. Deeper, there is probably a twinge of anti-crowd element to my personality that comes into play as well, but that’s hardly a valid reason to stay away from a place.
My neighbors are doing their best to make this first flight less than perfect. The one in front has reclined back as far as possible. The one behind seems intent on using my seat as the sole support for her many standing and sitting episodes, and playing with the tray table the rest of the time. I’ve also learned that being two seats away from the lavatory is not nearly enough to avoid the natural and chemical smells that waft out occasionally. Details to remember for next time.
I’ve also learned I’m a big fan of Neon Bible, Arcade Fire’s latest album. It is cutting into time I should be using to let Michele Thomas’ guttural lessons saturate my ears. I’ll queue the old boy up next.