Traveling Alone

Airports are a funny place. It’s kind of amazing that you can spend hours upon hours in a place, and you never actually go anywhere. Back in the old days, when we used to come back to visit the States, so often we would get into LAX and have 6,7, even 12 hours to kill before our flight to Indianapolis. It was so strange to be so close…and yet still so far away from the people that we held dear.

For some reasons, airports inspire my desire to write. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I have hours upon hours to spare and a limited amount of things that I can do with my time. Or if it’s because there are so many memories attached to airports. Whatever the reason, over the past 24 hours that I’ve been in and out of airports, I’ve been compiling a list of reasons I don’t like to travel alone. So here it goes:

Reasons I don’t like traveling Alone

•          It’s very likely that your international connection won’t wait for a party of one. It’s much more likely that they’ll wait when you’re a family of 5
•           There’s no one to watch the bags so you can go exploring the airport, so you just have to drag your bags around with you everywhere that you go
•           There’s no one to watch your bags while you sleep, so you just have to sleep on top of your bags
  
•           There’s no one to play duets with you on the random piano that you find in the LA airport.
•           There’s no one to talk to when you get bored of hearing yourself think
•           There’s no one to help you double check that you have anything so that you don’t accidentally leave your drink bottle behind
•           There’s no one to give you a hug or hand you a tissue or do the talking for you when you’re so upset about missing a flight that you can’t talk clearly to the people who are trying to help you.
•           You have no one to back you up when the airline is trying to charge you for extra luggage, even though it’s included in your booking.

The list could go on and on, but even as I was thinking through the list, I was also thinking about the reasons why I DO like traveling alone:

•  You’re more likely to meet and talk to the person playing the piano in the LA airport when you don’t have someone you’re travelling with to talk to
• You get to be the one to decide when to get of the plane when it lands, if you have a long time before your connecting flight, it’s okay to sit and wait and gather your items and even be the very last person on the plane.
• You get to decide where to eat lunch, and when to walk the terminals and when to sit at the gate.
• You meet really kind and helpful people who want to do all that they can to get you own your way, especially because they don’t like to see you cry.
• You learn how to make your backpack into a comfortable pillow.
• It's very easy to get booked for a new flight when they only have to find a seat for one, and just happen to have one seat left on the flight to Melbourne
• You don't have to worry about the people you're traveling with being embarrassed about your choice of travel clothing.
  
• You can be productive and work through your ‘to do’ list while you’re at the airport because you don’t have people to talk to and explore with.

So, as my travels continue, with 21 hours added to my travel time because of a plane delay and missed flight, as I travel alone across the world, I have a lot of time to ponder, reflect, and also remember. And I think back to the number of times I’ve sat in this exact airport, the night my family and I moved across the world, remembering the dinner we had with Brandon and Megan’s parents as they were also moving across the world on the same flight. I remember the times we would get in to LAX, and have 12 hours to sleep, explore, find food, and we just couldn’t wait to get to Indianapolis where we were sure to have a crowd of friends and family waiting to see us, and take us to steak n shake just because it was tradition. I remember the time that Benjamin and I spent 24 hours in the Dallas airport because we missed a connection, I remember sleeping on stretchers, and exploring every square inch of the airport so that now when I am there it almost feels like home. I remember the magical doors in the Melbourne airport (that no longer exist) that somehow magically transport you to America when you walk through them. I remember the very first time we stepped through the doors at the international arrivals and there was a whole church family there to meet us, people who loved us before they even knew us. I remember the hugs, the tears, the sad goodbyes, but also the smiles and tears of joy, and sweet hello’s that have taken place at airports. And I’m thankful. Thankful for travel that is so very easy. Thankful for a God who is sovereign even over missed connections. Thankful for friends and family, and as a friend reminded me recently, ‘what a blessing, to know so many wonderful people who love you in so many different places!’ – that really is a blessing to be thankful for.