Yesterday, I traveled from Oregon to Salt Lake City, Utah, to Boston, Mass. When I left Oregon, temperatures were 105 degrees! My whisking to a from the airport here in Boston has been accompanied by cool temps in the 50s with misty rain. Such a nice relief!
So here’s the low down:
The airport in Salt lake features the first smoking room that Ihave ever seen. I was walkingdown the the terminal, amidst gates full of waiting people, and there smack dab in between two gates was a glass box with people in it. Intrigued, I stepped forward. They were all smoking! In an airport!? I thought that was like the number one rule in airport procedures, no smoking inside. I thought it was pretty cool, and since I occasionally have a cigarette, I decided to try it out. Here’s what it felt like: a fish bowl. Once inside the glass box, people looked at you differently. Maybe it’s due to the American anti-smoking culture we have, or perhaps because the glass box was just so different! Inside, built in fans above sucked the smoke up and outside immediately, so the room (which I expected to be cloudy with second-hand smoke) was as see through as glass. Very interesting.
On my flight to Boston, I tried striking up a conversation with my seatmate, but (pun intended) it appeared my words were falling on deaf ears. After a few comments going unanswered, I chalked it up to a possible very introverted personality and chose to stare out my window at the mountains below. It was only when she stood up, allowing me to scoot by to the bathroom, that I noticed her sweater said “Deaf Soccer League”. Instead of embarrassing myself further, I pantomimed the American Sign Language motion for “thank you” and she flashed me a smile.
Now, as I sit in a cafe, awaiting my 10 p.m. flight, I am keenly aware that the fingers gliding across this keyboard are in bad, bad, glamour shape. I need a manicure, stat. Especially before I see my fiance (who I haven’t seen in a year, thank you very much). The server has notified me that in Terminal C (not the international terminal) there’s a whole mall, where I can wait these next 5 hours, and go ahead and get my nails done! How lucky am I?
Meanwhile, I’m trying to catch the eye of a Portuguese waitress, who I’ve heard speaking Portuguese to other customers, and I desperately want to get in on the lingual-practice action! In less than a day, I’ll be immersed in a whole other culture, where I’ll be expected to know the casual day-to-day dialogue of my future-family. I mean, Fabio and I have been dating for four years, engaged for two, and I should know it fluently by now! I suppose I just need more practice.
Anyway, this is such a long post, that I’ll stop here for now. I am thrilled to board that international flight, and arrive in Ponta Delgada, Sao Miguel tomorrow. More experiences, travel and thoughts to come!
P.s. I’m going to order that Boston cream pie now.