As is my habit, life was a bit harried in the days leading up to my departure. Settling details, resolving issues and late, unexpected developments always seem to interrupt what I always expect will be a smooth transition from my relatively mundane life to my life of "travel adventure." But that is all behind me now as I sit in the British Airways lounge in New York, reflecting on leaving home for such an extended time.
The departure is always flooded with mixed feelings. I sat in the plane looking across the lava tarmac and up at Hualalai Mountain, shrouded in rain, wondering how the most important woman in my life, Pua, would endure my absence. With good luck the house sitters will treat her much better than I have over the past couple of years. There has been so much time away and, due to her advanced age, she deserves more attention, not less. However, the search for something, I know not what, has dominated life and I don't see that ending soon.
The plane leaves my home island and the journey begins. I am feeling a bit of trepidation about the unknown, a bit of melancholia as I travel alone and a growing amount of excitement as I move down this new path.
One key aspect of all of my adventures exists in the people I meet. Not being a shy, retiring person, I seek out many and varied social contacts. In my first flight I sat with a rather nervous lady with darting eyes and in constant body motion. When she told me that she was born and had always lived in Hawaii I was astonished. Admittedly, she was a city girl (from Honolulu) but why hadn't her visits to her home in North Kohala settled her? She was a mystery that there was no time to unravel.
My next flight placed me beside a grandmotherly woman of Filipino extraction. She was quite elegant and easily shared her stories of life as a travel guide. She was obviously a strong person and, despite her petite stature, it was evident she quartered no nonsense in the conduct of either her life or her business. She was, indeed, a joyful person with whom to spend time. The flight went rapidly and we soon parted ways but she had given me an idea. What if I were to learn enough Italian or French to become a seasonal travel guide for Americans in those countries? That's something to think about.
My final flight of the day, from Los Angeles to New York, found me seated next to a rather disinterested California businessman. Therefore, I spent my time studying Italian until I happened to talk with the flight attendant for my section. She, her name Terri, was quite friendly and, as we talked further, we discovered that we were staying at the same hotel. She was nice enough, with the approval of the Captain, to offer me a ride with the crew to the hotel. The trip with the crew, who were quite chatty, was much faster, saving me an hour or so. After over ten hours of flying I was very happy for the accelerated arrive into a warm shower and a very comfortable bed. I slept long and well.
So, after a rejuvenating night, here I am, awaiting my flight to Barcelona. I am sitting amidst the absolute wonder of international travelers. My airline is Iberia and the primary language is, of course, Spanish. Me? I don't understand a word but they are great fun to watch. One day I must learn a bit of Spanish, but, that's another project.
Talk to you later.
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