Of Airports

Let me start by saying I love airports.

Let me end by saying, I have no inkling why.

Seriously now, I can't pinpoint the exact, or at least the major, reason why. I've listed down all possible reasons why I love airports (I got lost in one, finished reading Allende's Daughter of Fortune in another, visited Japan through one - Narita was one of our stop-overs on our way to Winnipeg years ago, etc etc), and yet none of them seemed reason enough. Every romanticized idea -- which are oftentimes more poetic than they are true -- didn't seem to fit the picture, too. Was it the flying that I love? Perhaps, the idea of vacation that follows a trip to the airport or the idea of returning home after being away so long? Perhaps the fantasy of one day running away? Truth is, I still don't know. Just that I often crave the feeling of being in an airport, so I can read a book in peace; so I can listen to random numbers and letters being called out (sometimes, it's almost like listening to a foreign language). It doesn't make sense, does it? Airports sometimes remind me of Nikko's poem - the sadness of Boarding Pass, or of Love Actually - the happiness of being back in a loved one's arms. It's both sad and happy; foreign and familiar. See, romanticized? I wonder if what I'm feeling for airports is only infatuation. Hah.

Anyway, we're off to Boracay! This marks the start of our (Gel, Steph and I) travels together. One small step for us, one giant leap for Steph. Hahaha! Next stop: Ilocos on October! Laissez les bons temps rouler!