Meet the Author at the Airport
An average early morning flight from Ottawa, Canada.
My alarm goes off, blaring in the dark hours of the early morning. I snooze it with a groan, and fall back asleep. Ten-plus snoozed alarms later and I am now officially running late. I curse the size of the city, the airlines, and most of all myself for ever having thought that a 6 am flight was an acceptable option. The only positive thing is that traffic has yet to begin at such an inhumane hour. I arrive at the airport exactly two hours ahead, which is perfect for a domestic flight (most flights from here pass through Toronto or Montreal first) but alas, it is snowing outside, and the flight is delayed. I curse myself for not checking the flight status before leaving, but there’s nothing to be done except to continue through security. Onward.
The airport staff, yawning with sleep, search through bags with tired eyes. Nothing much seems to interest them, not even the occasional alarm. How must they feel, seeing excited travellers pass through the gates day after day, when they themselves stand in the exact same spot every morning, repeatedly reminding every other person to “Please take your laptop out of your bag”, and “All liquids must be in a small one-litre clear bag, thank you”? Luckily, the Ottawa airport has finally upgraded to new machines, so the only thing that must be removed are snow boots; as a result, the lineup runs faster than usual. (Thank you, oh technology gods!)
Travel is not always fun for the customer either. Sometimes it’s a requirement: a business trip, a compassionate flight. There are many reasons to travel. Fortunately, today I reside in the most common traveller category during a Canadian winter: a sunshine flight south to Mexico.
Breakfast options after security are sparse. I buy a sad croissant with a less-sad coffee, and a plastic water bottle, as I must have (unfortunately) left my reusable one at home. The cost of the bill is outrageous, but I ignore the numbers. It’s too early to do math anyway, and the thought of warm sunshine after weeks of -20 deg C temperatures fills my head with a sound somewhere between a church choir and a symphonic metal band—it blocks out any passing negative thought. The flight to Toronto is small and packed to the brim with what appear to be business travellers; the overhead bins are nearly overflowing by the time my seating zone is called. An unimpressed flight attendant shoves my carpet bag between two comically oversized carry-on suitcases and snaps the bin shut. I collapse into my seat, grateful that there are no more delays.
The Toronto airport has better food and seating options, but it is much louder, thrumming with chatter and fan noise. My earplugs only moderately soften the din. I check my phone—three hours to go until my flight. I watch the airplanes slide in and out of view through the snowy landscape. I smile. All that’s left now is to wait.
These past few months of movement have been dizzying, and I am ready for a break. They say that travel can’t solve all your problems, but there is something to be said for taking a break from the stress of everyday life. I am very interested in being in a place where the wind doesn’t hurt my face. Would you like to follow me on this trip? The airplane is only half full, but not everyone has the time, money, or desire to travel. But a break from life can be as simple as having a slow, quiet cup of tea and reading a short article like this one, for just a few minutes in the day.
The plane slides into the air, buffeted by strong gusts of wind. The checkered snowy landscape fades beneath puffy, whipped-cream clouds. The sun shines through the windows, blinding and beautiful.
See you soon,
Alexa
Bon voyage and please update soon :)