Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Stuck in a Holding Pattern

There is a certain zone that you enter when you have been traveling in airports for more than 24 hours. It suddenly doesn't matter where you are actually going, you have to stop thinking about it, you are stuck in a brain holding pattern, like a plane waiting to land. It is a very strange place to be....all this waiting, punctuated by short busts of stress. Like when you go through customs, or when they tell you they don't know where your bag is, or when they pull you OFF the plane so that a flight crew can get to Calgary instead of you...
Total travel time for getting here from door to door? 56 hours in transit....

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

the best thing to do in holding patterns is to check in with the outside world on a regular basis.
we were once coming home, in November, by bus, from the States, and got caught in a mammoth snow storm. The bus stuggled into the station in Toledo, Ohio . . . and there we sat. On the bus. In the wasteland, surrounded by swirling snow. Buses kept arriiving, but no one left. After about 12 hours, the food at the lunch counter started to run out.

I began to believe that Purgatory did, indeed exist, and that there had actually been an accident in the storm, and that we had all died, and that others continued to die . . . perhaps the buses were metaphorical . . . and Bus Depot Toledo was the holding pen for lost souls . . . .

so call home!

xof