When I travel I seem to be more prepared to stay in the moment and take things in in a different way. In my backpack is my Nook, a book, journal, maps, puzzle books, pens and pencils, and all my travel papers. My mind shifts into airplane mode, thus preparing me to embrace any delays or inconveniences, and I pretty much stay on that frequency for the entire trip.
The flight to Glasgow this time was effortless and flawless, the only glitch being that we arrived ahead of schedule and had to wait twenty minutes on the tarmac for a gate. I had three hours to spend at the airport before my bus to Ft. William, and strange as it may seem, I was delighted. I wandered about, or shall I say puttered about, found the ATM machine, enjoyed a ‘full Scottish breakfast’, checked flights, watched arrivals, bought my bus ticket and tried, unsuccessfully, to find a ‘hot spot’ for free internet.
Here’s a try at describing this airplane/airport time? It was travel and destination all wrapped up in one. It was being present in the moment with some kind of past and future simultaneously whirling about. I was on the movable walkway, delighted that wasn’t coming to an end.
I have the sense that there is some deep connection between solitude and travel for me. That travel might be across the Atlantic, up the highway to my cottage-by-the-sea, or just across the street to the library. Travel from one place to another, but intense and present every second along the way.