Airports. There’s something about them that evokes a lot of emotion inside me. Whether it is picking up and dropping off a beloved, or arriving and departing myself, I always find myself watching everything around me in awe, especially people’s behaviours. Having dropped off my brother only last week at the airport *sob*, I was able to witness the travel lust once more.
It is so intriguing to watch family members say farewell to each other, hugging and crying, whereas others are meeting each other after a long period of time, hugging and crying too but with tears of joy instead of sadness. The fact that airports are the point of first or last meetings between two people, as they create memories that are often etched into minds for ever.
I know that in the times not too long ago, when travelling by air wasn’t so popular or mainstream as it is now, going to the airport was an event in itself. I myself remember how my trip to India almost a decade ago meant that I had to wear my absolute best and shiniest clothes to travel in. Let me tell you that Indian attire, especially the ones made for special occasions, are not the most forgiving. The materials and jewels are so rough, you would think I caught some rare skin disease mid flight that made me itchy and red everywhere. Now, the airport dress code is definitely more laid back and not at all itchy. I like to keep comfort at the forefront when travelling, yet there still has to be something special about the outfit. It simply has to be brand new, or perhaps have a bit of bling. Is that my good old Indian mentality peeking through? I sometimes see other people at the airport in their shorts and t-shirts and wonder how much time they spent planning out their outfit. I also remember that on the way back from India, an entire van full of family came to drop us off to the airport. I was not so lucky enough to live in an age where people showered travelers with garlands of flowers (though it is still done for VIPs in some parts of the world), but saying farewell is still just as difficult. Anyway, I digress.
I have traveled a fair bit, and would love to travel lots more. For me, the excitement of travelling begins at the airport itself. The mad dash to the check in, even though we have of course arrived hours early, or the anticipation of weighing one’s luggage, and sighing a breath of relief as it shows that the limit was JUST curbed by a kilo or two. Guessing where other travelers must be heading depending on their outfit choices, each traveler with their own story and ready to embark a journey that could possibly be the next big step in their life. All these actions and thoughts just fill me with glee.
However, as I plan my next venture to the airport that will take place in a just over a month, I wonder how this will change now that I am a mother. Will I be so fixated at what the other person is wearing or how they are acting when I have my own little one to run after? Perhaps this time I will not take notice of the air hostesses smiling knowingly at each other about something because I will be too preoccupied making sure Baby Z is comfortable during the flight?
I am not so sure that I won’t suddenly be disinterested in all that is going on around me. Yes, perhaps I will notice less, but I think I will still be stealing glances at the old man on the opposite aisle, wondering whether he is flying to meet his wife or his grand children, or perhaps wondering whether my family will welcome us with garlands of flowers when we finally reach our destination….(I don’t mind bouquets either…)
So I guess what I am trying to say is that airports make me soppy. Airports are magical places filled to the brim with emotions across the entire spectrum, and I absolutely love them.
When was the last time you took a trip abroad, or even just to the airport? Let me know if you feel the same way about airports, or not, in the comments section below.