One week
One week. That’s how long I have to wait until I get to go back to the place I love the most. I cannot wait to have those feelings again…
You walk in at the airport and you can already feel the smell of jet fuel (only the most wonderful smell in the world – yes, fuck roses). You walk through security with that guilty face even though you know you did nothing wrong – just like walking out of the supermarket, not buying anything… You take a quick look in the shopping area before you sit down in the waiting area, on the most uncomfortable seat.
It’s been 2 minutes since you last checked the time. Only 2 minutes?! I wanna go now!!! This is what you keep doing until it’s time to leave.
The boarding queue is always really long and for some reason people end up standing behind each other walking on the same spot, just lifting their feet up and down. Maybe they think I’ll move faster if you do that. I’ve figured out: it doesn’t.
Once, I was standing in the queue and noticed that I had misspelled my name when I made my booking. I’m usually a control freak when it comes to names and spelling since I know how important it is when it comes to airlines, tickets and spelling. For once I did not double-triple check my name and after you’ve checked in there’s no turning back, you can’t change it. When I showed my ticket and passport to the Ryanair-lady I smiled and again I had that going-through-the-security-face only this time I knew I was guilty… She had a quick look and luckily she didn’t notice it.
When you’re finally on the plane you’re finally on your way. For real…
As the plane leaves the ground there’s only a few hours left until you’re there. You’re trying to get some sleep but there is just too much excitement. When you finally fall asleep the captain turns on the fasten seatbelt sign and it is time to wake up.
Stepping out from the plane, breathing foreign air, walking on foreign ground. Now it’s just the border control… The endless queue… Then it’s your turn: guilty face… And then, then you’re finally there…
Let the fun begin… One week baby, one week!
You walk in at the airport and you can already feel the smell of jet fuel (only the most wonderful smell in the world – yes, fuck roses). You walk through security with that guilty face even though you know you did nothing wrong – just like walking out of the supermarket, not buying anything… You take a quick look in the shopping area before you sit down in the waiting area, on the most uncomfortable seat.
It’s been 2 minutes since you last checked the time. Only 2 minutes?! I wanna go now!!! This is what you keep doing until it’s time to leave.
The boarding queue is always really long and for some reason people end up standing behind each other walking on the same spot, just lifting their feet up and down. Maybe they think I’ll move faster if you do that. I’ve figured out: it doesn’t.
Once, I was standing in the queue and noticed that I had misspelled my name when I made my booking. I’m usually a control freak when it comes to names and spelling since I know how important it is when it comes to airlines, tickets and spelling. For once I did not double-triple check my name and after you’ve checked in there’s no turning back, you can’t change it. When I showed my ticket and passport to the Ryanair-lady I smiled and again I had that going-through-the-security-face only this time I knew I was guilty… She had a quick look and luckily she didn’t notice it.
When you’re finally on the plane you’re finally on your way. For real…
As the plane leaves the ground there’s only a few hours left until you’re there. You’re trying to get some sleep but there is just too much excitement. When you finally fall asleep the captain turns on the fasten seatbelt sign and it is time to wake up.
Stepping out from the plane, breathing foreign air, walking on foreign ground. Now it’s just the border control… The endless queue… Then it’s your turn: guilty face… And then, then you’re finally there…
Let the fun begin… One week baby, one week!
Kommentarer
Trackback
