Showing posts with label flight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flight. Show all posts
Dec 16, 2015
Sep 8, 2015
May 11, 2014
4.27.14
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 21, 2014
1.14.14
just one 4 hour, midnight van ride through the jungle, one 5 and a half hour flight and one trip through customs and i'm back in winterland... for the moment.
Dec 25, 2013
Oct 30, 2013
10.27.13
to all the travelers:
"i do know something about wanderlust. the giddiness that sets in when the bags are loaded in the van, or the bus, or the car, and off we go; bumping through the 3am darkness of a third world country. driving through fog and sometimes rain, with the AC blasting a little too cold. trying not to roll off the seat with every hard corner, trying to sleep before the lines, the lights, the logistics of the airport.
hauling heavy suitcases, shouldering over-packed backpacks, or the occasional relief of a carry-on only trip. the annoyance and efficiency or sometimes inefficiency of removing your shoes, your belt, your clothes, your laptop. waiting to be passed through or searched or scanned or rescanned.
i know the comfort of standing on the moving sidewalk, or sometimes the panic of running, shuttling through glass and steel, crowds or empty corridors. waiting in uncomfortable chairs or lying on the floor, watching the clouds brighten in the light of dawn. watching the sun come up or go down over the tarmac. feeling that moment of stillness - always the same at every gate in any country.
i am at home in the anticipation of the walk from the gate; the tunnel to the seats in the craft. the craft. the craft. the craft! the strangers. the family. the lovers. the stewardesses; the cheery greeting, the forced eye contact, the stale air, the faltering path into the belly of it. the hoping for a window seat, and hopefully the free cocktails, the empty row.
and then that moment, we all know that moment. we're airborn, we're lifting, we're throttling through sky, we're raising, rising, looking down, banking, ascending, turning, correcting, yawning, ears popping and thrilling. it's thrilling. it's finally happening, the leaving, the going, the fleeing, the flying. we're flying. we're flying!
smooth or sometimes bumpy, exhausting, relaxing, productive, unconscious, sometimes glorious, sometimes grueling. well-acquainted with the exquisite boredom and impatient anticipation of a long flight. well acquainted with the terror of turbulence, the blessing of an interesting seatmate, the relief of a xanax somewhere over the pacific. cannot imagine living without the views. the views from above. the fields of clouds, and fields of crops. the structure of cities, the sprawl of suburbs, the mountains, the snaking rivers, the flash of lakes, the magnificent millions of marvels in moisture and light and shadow.
the whole world from a window seat.
there is no happiness like the happiness of descent, no moment i love more. we're here! we made it! the wheeling, the return, the jolt of the tires, the roar, the breaks, the wait for the doors. another aiport, another flight, or sometimes a baggage carousel, a car, a reunion, a taxi, a crowd, chaos, calm, near, far, foreign, domestic, home is not at the beginning or the end.
home is in the air, in the airport, in the coming and going. the bad coffee. the people watching. the hope and excitement of transit. home is in the journey."
written by me, somewhere over the gulf of mexico.
"i do know something about wanderlust. the giddiness that sets in when the bags are loaded in the van, or the bus, or the car, and off we go; bumping through the 3am darkness of a third world country. driving through fog and sometimes rain, with the AC blasting a little too cold. trying not to roll off the seat with every hard corner, trying to sleep before the lines, the lights, the logistics of the airport.
hauling heavy suitcases, shouldering over-packed backpacks, or the occasional relief of a carry-on only trip. the annoyance and efficiency or sometimes inefficiency of removing your shoes, your belt, your clothes, your laptop. waiting to be passed through or searched or scanned or rescanned.
i know the comfort of standing on the moving sidewalk, or sometimes the panic of running, shuttling through glass and steel, crowds or empty corridors. waiting in uncomfortable chairs or lying on the floor, watching the clouds brighten in the light of dawn. watching the sun come up or go down over the tarmac. feeling that moment of stillness - always the same at every gate in any country.
i am at home in the anticipation of the walk from the gate; the tunnel to the seats in the craft. the craft. the craft. the craft! the strangers. the family. the lovers. the stewardesses; the cheery greeting, the forced eye contact, the stale air, the faltering path into the belly of it. the hoping for a window seat, and hopefully the free cocktails, the empty row.
and then that moment, we all know that moment. we're airborn, we're lifting, we're throttling through sky, we're raising, rising, looking down, banking, ascending, turning, correcting, yawning, ears popping and thrilling. it's thrilling. it's finally happening, the leaving, the going, the fleeing, the flying. we're flying. we're flying!
smooth or sometimes bumpy, exhausting, relaxing, productive, unconscious, sometimes glorious, sometimes grueling. well-acquainted with the exquisite boredom and impatient anticipation of a long flight. well acquainted with the terror of turbulence, the blessing of an interesting seatmate, the relief of a xanax somewhere over the pacific. cannot imagine living without the views. the views from above. the fields of clouds, and fields of crops. the structure of cities, the sprawl of suburbs, the mountains, the snaking rivers, the flash of lakes, the magnificent millions of marvels in moisture and light and shadow.
the whole world from a window seat.
there is no happiness like the happiness of descent, no moment i love more. we're here! we made it! the wheeling, the return, the jolt of the tires, the roar, the breaks, the wait for the doors. another aiport, another flight, or sometimes a baggage carousel, a car, a reunion, a taxi, a crowd, chaos, calm, near, far, foreign, domestic, home is not at the beginning or the end.
home is in the air, in the airport, in the coming and going. the bad coffee. the people watching. the hope and excitement of transit. home is in the journey."
written by me, somewhere over the gulf of mexico.
Jun 19, 2013
6.13.13
"this morning russ woke me by wishing me a happy six month anniversary. we chose "surprise" as our theme today. he surprised me, not with a puppy or 'a thing but an experience,' by giving me a 30 minute gyrocopter ride over the coast and jungles of the nicoya. my stomach was still a bit upset and i was nervous but it turned out to be a most excellent and amazing adventure.
the gyrocopter is not like a plane or a regular helicopter. for one thing it's open air and it's tiny. once the propellers gained momentum they seemed to hold it even once he cut the engine and we slowly sank towards the ground. at times we were high above it all seeing the coast stretch out for miles and miles in either direction; seeing the storms over the ocean and the mist rising off the jungle. at other times we were so low over the waves it felt like a pelican's view as they hover and skim across the sea. it was the best surprise and the best present and the best six months of my life.
i've ridden gyrocopters, surfboards, motorcycles, quads, cars, beach cruisers, boats, scooters, tiny planes, big jets, city trains, tuk tuks and taxis. i've been on both sides of the world in temples and jungles and ruins and metropolises. i've had beer on beaches and cocktails in skybars. i've dined with diplomats and pop stars and poor tico farmers. i've gambled in vegas and hiked through deserts. i've gone snorkeling and yogaing and jungling and watting and flying. i've seen dolphins and puma and tapir and monkeys. i've eaten mangos and papayas fresh from the trees and pineapple from the ground. i've learned to machete open a coconut and drive doubled up on a scooter and surf and teach yoga and speak sanskrit and lean into the curves.
i have fallen in love.
i have laughed and cried and learned and felt more than i ever imagined.
it has been an epic six months. i can't wait for six months more."
May 31, 2013
May 29, 2013
5.17.13
off i go on another adventure. no motorcycles or yoga mats necessary this time. just lots of bugspray and some river crossing shoes. dad and john and brian and i are going to hike corcovado national park. to get there i took a 3 hour bus ride then met them for a flight in the smallest plane i've ever been in, to a boat which eventually deposited us at puerto jimenez, the jumping off point for the wildest jungle in costa and most of the world.
Feb 21, 2013
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