Airports

Okey, I have lately received some complaints considering the pace I update this blog (well, can I just say ditto - it seems quite useless to keep updating when no one bother to make any comments!). So now I'm trying to put my act together and write something about travelling cos it has played a big part in my life recently. Since coming to London, I have spend 25 hours in the air, travelled 16 569 kilometre and visited seven different countries.

So, within past five months I have spent time in five different airports around Europe and West Africa. Most of those visits have been tolerable (like that hour I spent in half sleep at the airport of Helsinki while travelling back to London after Christmas) but there has been more painful ones as well. There is the time at Heathrow a week before Christmas with queues and delays and those three hours at Charles de Gaulle with a headache from hell (apparently there is no pharmacy on the boarding area) on my way to Cotonou. But nothing has been as rewarding as finally arriving to the tiny international airport of Cotonou after travelling almost 18 hours, getting myself & my back bag (though lacking some underwear and bikini;) through passport check and customs and finding Riikka waiting for me in that dark, moist African night.

There is something special about airports. I just love the buzzing atmosphere and all those people: passengers from all over the world on their way to exotic destinations like Falkland Islands, Fiji or Finland and hundreds (or thousands, if you consider three major airports of London: nearly 35 000 people are working at Heathrow, Stansted and Gatwick making them the biggest employers of the area) of staff members running around doing their thing. I always have that funny feeling in my stomach before starting the journey: can barely sleep the night before and all those expectations and hopes fill up my mind.

Though airport mainly arouse those positive and excited feelings in me, it is also tied up with certain amount of sadness. Going to airport to catch the flight always means leaving something or someone behind and sometimes it really is difficult to walk to that plane...Well, at least we are living the time of modern technology and in most cases it is possible for us to talked with our loved ones even daily if desired (especially if certain persons would manage to set up their Skype;). Cannot even imagine what it must have been like in the old days.

Even though I enjoy travelling a great deal, coming back home is every time an ecstatic moment. Mainly cos there inevitably is those crucial moments in nearly every journey when you just hope you could go home crawl into your own bed (I think that defining moment during my journey in West Africa was the time I got 24 hour stomach flu during the power cut which in our case meant no water or flushing the toilet). And it is always great feeling to finally get rid of those dirty clothes and wear something you haven't been force to wear several days in a row. That is, if you managed to get all your luggages with you at home. It is something like a mystery how they can lose your bags in certain airports EVERY time you travel through them...