Rambles of a Two-Hour Layover
Layover Thoughts on Travel
I sit in this Boston airport traveling to Iceland on a two-hour layover surrounded by annoyed airline customers, stomach growling, brain fried. I’ve been engaged in Facebook political debate all day: it’s a great way to pass the time as long as you can shut it off.
Thankfully, I’ve found that I can.
But I digress: there’s music playing, it’s classical or something, supposed to be soothing I think.
But I don’t really find it soothing. I think it’d be better if there were rock music blaring, or maybe rap, absolutely blasted.
Wouldn’t that be nice? If that were the case, my adrenaline would be pumping, I’d be absolutely amped. I’m sure the time would fly past.
But that’s not the case, and as it stands now, I sit in a rather comfortable black chair, my luggage strewn on another, listening to a little kid impatiently annoy his mother. It’s that kind of a day.
The ride up was uneventful; pleasant, even. For others, that might not be the case. However, I’ve always enjoyed travel hubs and the process of getting from one place to another. Travel is traveling. The destination is a plus, but not the end-all. Once, I spent a week on a Greyhound bus; eating, sleeping, everything. I was there in that seat all the way across the United States.
And you know what? It was absolutely wonderful.
During that trip I wrote more words than I’d ever than I’d ever written before; I engaged with my own thoughts and intellectually discovered who I was a little bit more. I also generated enough excitement about life to last me for a few years.
This trip, thus far, has been the same. Yes, I’m stuck in a Boston airport. But on the other hand, I’m stuck in a Boston airport. I could be at work, or somewhere else. Here, I’ve got nothing better to do than write and think. That’s a pretty potent and enjoyable mix.