Travel Day Part 2
7:09 p.m. San Francisco is a gorgeous city to fly over. The sky was perfectly clear, no smog was visible, and the city sat below me gleaming like a jewel. From the air you can’t see the trash, the poverty, the cigarette butts and globs of gum, the cracks and chips and imperfections that all cities bear. All you see are a million shining, reflecting windows, large patches of green trees, and straight orderly streets. I’ll be boarding my flight to Auckland in about 15 minutes. It’s funny how quickly I fall back into the travel groove - the one where I take advantage of every clean bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, the one where I look for free wifi at every available opportunity, and the one where I instinctively find my way to my terminal and have all of my belongings back in my possession within 2 seconds of leaving the TSA screening. It still feels right and natural and ordinary to travel to me. It still feels like what I should be doing. And it’s funny how once I’m in the clouds, far above the land below, it makes no difference to me what particular land lies beneath me. It doesn’t feel like a big deal, it feels like a small little planet that I’m skimming across, and every last bit of it feels totally accessible. It is so small.
10:41 p.m. So I’ve now been fed, sedated, watched Juno, and now feel like listening to music and writing. This is pretty posh actually - even if it is a long flight. A 13 hour flight, with a row all to myself, decent food, okay wine, and all of the electronic gadgits I could hope for to keep me occupied beats a lot of other forms of transportation I’ve utilized. I’m thinking back to my 36 hour travel days by bus in South America. Those days were enough to almost make a person suicidal, or homicidal depending on the person. I met a kid on this flight who is a winemaker, and going to be working in Central Otago. I guess I’m not so special after all. Juno made me cry a bit at the end. Not sure what about it got me choked up - the kids being kids and finding young love, the married couple breaking up, or the nice (kind of a little bit psycho) lady getting the baby. Maybe a culmination of all three. I think I’m going to watch No Country for Old Men next. Probably pass out asleep during.
7:45 a.m. Definitely a posh flight - I just got served Champagne (well, the wine snob in me won’t let me call it that, it was actually sparkling wine, not from Champagne). I wasn’t going to have any, but I overheard one of the flight attendants mention it (all the F.A. on this flight are young guys, what’s up with that?) so I asked and he said, “Yea, would you like some?” “No, I was just curious” said I, to which he replied, “come on Love, live a little.” I think I’m in trouble down here - anytime a guy calls me Love I’m like, powerless. Apparently I requested the low fat meals online because they keep bringing them. Yogurt and fruit are what I would prefer anyway, so that’s good. The night was good, surprisingly restful. The whole plane looked like there were sleeping - I suppose since were at about 1/3 capacity that makes sense. We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, then I need to rush through customs, pray they don’t make me pay taxes because I am way over the limit on alcohol brought for personal consumption (supposed to be 4.5 liters, or about 6 bottles of wine, I’m carrying a case of wine and four large beers). Guess we’ll see how charming and persuasive I can be!
