All of our air travel for this trip has been oddly smooth. Our first plane from MSP to Seattle started boarding twenty minutes ahead of schedule, presumably to make things easier on people with connections, and actually kicked back a few minutes early. Unheard of, or perhaps an indicator that I fly to Chicago too often to accept that planes can be on time.
Things started to get freaky-smooth when we started boarding our Seoul flight. The ever-present herd of people impatiently clustered around the gate was nonexistent. The agents called our zone and we casually strolled aboard. Is it because korea? The fries at the one restaurant in SeaTac’s S terminal being so delicious they were almost worth what we paid for them, putting everyone in a food coma? Nobody is ever eager for a trans pacific flight, but when we were leaving Beijing, the gate agents practically had to cattle prod all the people who did not give two shits about boarding according to zone. Fortunately, by the end of that trip, We had accepted that pushing tough old ladies out the way was an everyday occurrence.
Whatever the reason, I’ll take it! And more fries, please. And drugs.
Fortunately, the travel gods were about to get their revenge on my face. After being deathly ill two days ago, I was very much not looking forward to 17 hours of air travel. I spent the first nine hours of our twelve-hour trans-pacific flight with a steadily worsening headache which began to move into nausea land until discovering the perfect drug cocktail to keep it at bay until landing. Not only could I breathe, my face didn’t explode, and I didn’t cough as much. Great success!
And now here we sit at a cafe in the airport, waiting for the rest of our crew to land. WordPress is not liking my attempt to add photos from my phone so those will have to wait.