I’m in an airport once again, to Iceland once again, with some reservations. What will be different? What will I be disappointed in? Will I not be able to enjoy the two weeks because I keep on comparing it to 5 years ago, the last time I was there?
And I’m also gaining and indelible fear of flying which I’ve never had before. I used to look out the window, look down at the clouds, at the setting or rising sun, the rivers, lakes, lands and houses. Now I just hold my breath and hope that we’ve made a safe landing.
Speaking of airports, airports are...many geographers have commented that airports are nowhere lands, are geographies of nowhere. I sort of understand it, but not really. I feel like, save the spending less hours per time, and the lack of showers in some cases, airports are like gas stations, supermarkets, shopping centres...not that bad. Sort of know what they mean, but not really. Airports are like waiting. So does that mean airports are like life?
Anyway, I want to create my own definition of airports so I noted a few things. To me, right now, on this day, airports are:
1. overhearing an older pilot explaining to a younger pilot what Kickstarter is.
2. being overly hydrated, dehydrated, have dry skin or have overly oily skin
3. being in a huge international airport such as the JFK one in New York and having so much time to just walk around the terminal, look at the destinations on the screens of each gate, then sitting down and listening to the language of that destination, closing my eyes and pretending that I’m there: such examples as Rome, Madrid, Tel Aviv, Abu Dhabi, Dublin, Santiago.