Airports, A Love Affair

All the things you probably hate about travelling -the recycled air, the artificial lighting, the digital juice dispensers, the cheap sushi- are warm reminders that I'm home.
-Up in the Air


       Airports. Most people hate them with a passion, a fear, a sadness, a sinister anxiety. I thrive for them. My blood moves through my veins for them. Every terminal explored is a new adventure. Every giant pane of glass in which I can see my own image lovingly staring out at all the lined up airplanes is like peering into another wardrobe into Narnia; each airplane could take me to a different world. It gives me insurmountable childlike energy. 
        Airports are like the crazy cat lady that lives next door. Each one is unique, some are confusing, some are brightly coloured and some seem to just be average, but there's always a bit of craziness inside. Each one has its odd entities, its own energy as well as its uncanny ability to attract a ridiculous amount of strays of all ages, shapes, sizes, ethnicities, beliefs, attire, personalities and attitudes under one roof. 
        All my big moments have transpired in or outside airports in seventeen different countries. Some countries and cities more than others. But no matter what, there is always something I remember about almost every airport I've ever been. There is a Ben & Jerry's in every terminal in the Atlanta airport -it is also the busiest airport in the entire world. The Fort Myers airport smells like sand and salt water after the humidity has got to it and its airport code is RSW, which is stupid. The airport in the middle of absolute nowhere in Dayton, Ohio has only one terminal and they're incredibly strict about the dumbest things. I'm sorry you had to angrily throw out my bottle of lotion that was one ounce over the limit, but I just don't think a terrorist is going to be flying in or out of Dayton for any reason. But hey, you're just doing your job and it is a safe airport because of it. The Raleigh and Greensboro airports in North Carolina are synonymous of memories of summer camp and first love. I left a lot of tears and big moments in those two airports. The route into the old Hong Kong airport is to fly in between city buildings. My eleven year old eyes watched people working at their desks in sky scraping office buildings as we flew between them. Ever since the new airport was built and September 11th, this is no longer possible. I feel like I've witnessed an incredible piece of history. Walking right outside the doors of the international airport in Manila, Philippines is a glorious mixture of humidity, pollution, car horns, Tagalog and friendly, beautiful Filipino faces. The Manila airport feels like coming home. There was an airport on some island in the Philippines that consisted of a dirt road as the landing strip, a few strewn-together huts as the airport itself and as many chickens as people. I wish I could time travel back to my nine year old self and take a thousand photographs of just that one cultured airport and the people surrounding it. The airport in Christchurch, New Zealand used to be a foggy memory of dreamy childhood excitement and adventure. Now it is an exhilarating memory of destiny, biting cold, crisp air, slight hangover, heartache, awe, significant life change, love beyond all measure, the calming assurance of my future and of course, incredible adventure.

In this post I will have photographs of various airports as I pass through them from the past, present and future.

CLT

CLT

TPA

The Great American West

PHX

Headed toward that Pacific Ocean

Over the Pacific

BNE

BNE

BNE

The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over.
-Up in the Air