8- The Long Journey Home

Mom. Sister. Me. Rome's Leonardo Da Vinci airport. 3am. 

It was on the 29th of April 2013 that we begun the LONG journey home. 

4 hour flight from Rome to Amsterdam. 9 hour layover in Schiphol airport. 13 hour flight to Incheon Airport, in Korea. 9 hour layover in Korea. 4 hour flight to Manila. 

Yes, it was a test in fortitude- and, lucky for us, a crash test in sleeping in comfort chairs and comfort couches in Korea while being only a few steps away from a fully functional bar. 

Actually, I enjoy long journeys. Because of the way my life is structured, and because of the frenetic pace of daily lives, sometimes, its only during long bus rides, plane rides, and layovers that we have the chance to pause and reflect on life as we know it, and ponder on life as it is supposed to- or want it- to be. 

Unfortunately, it was during the 30 minute taxi ride from Hotel Buenos Aires in Rome to Leonardo Da Vinci that my mother lost her iPhone 5- an iPhone 5 full of pictures and videos, no less. My mom never did get that phone unit back. My mom, as do my sister and I, have in our minds and hearts, many great memories of Italy. Those will remain untouched forever. Losing a camera or an iPhone full of content isn't really like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but, hey, a bummer is a bummer. The loss of the "tangible" hurts just the same. 

I remember Da Vinci Airport being small, and somewhat dimly lit. The "dimly lit" part might be because I was hazy because of a lack of sleep, but then again, the place as I remember it was dimly lit. The joint needed a fresh coat of paint. Generally, the airport was rather organized, and served its purpose. No major problems here. 

Ah, Schiphol. A nice airport. A transport hub. Clean to the point of "hospital clean". Everything was laid out pretty well, and while the Duty Free wasn't all too spectacular, it did do the gods of "buyer's temptation" proud. The problem lay in where to stay for long layovers, particularly if you're an Economy Class passenger. There were gate chairs, yes, but they seemed small, and wobbly. It did help that the airport was constantly illuminated and organized. It was quite fun dodging airport carts from different directions in a large hallway in the airport leading up to the departure gates. Fun because it felt like being on Mario Kart. Not fun if you're late for your boarding call or have tons of luggage of your own in tow. 

Incheon Airport. Where had you been all my life? This place was a winner. 

From quick hit city tours, to free Lazy Boy Chair access, to free premium shower rooms, to mobile bars, etc., Incheon Airport seemed to have been built for passengers on long layovers. The large windows and spacious hallways helped in furthering an image of an edgy, hip, comfortable, transport hub. Plus, there was a Hello Kitty Cafe. I am not a fan of this quintessentially Japanese, mouth-less, feline, but hey, it was a nice touch for an airport which strove to offer diversity and "cool" to options to its patrons. Save for some trouble with my plane ticket (promptly acted upon by the Korean Air ground staff), my Incheon stopover was pretty swell. 

And oh, they have periodic cultural shows in the main concourse area of the airport near the Korea Cultural Center and a bevy of specialty shops. 

At the end of the whole tryst, came Manila. The tropics. The Philippines. Home. Oddly enough, and nothing against the Philippines, folks, I didn't want to be home. No one coming off of a fantastic holiday ever looks forward to going home. Home equals the daily grind. Home is equivalent to being part of "the horde" again. Home may be where the heart is, but what if what you saw during your trip seemed like home with a number of added touches that made what you typically wouldn't like about home, one with forgetfulness, would you still want to rush over to the country and address emblazoned on your passport? Maybe not. Or not too soon. 

And with that not-too-soon thought, comes one thing that is as sure as the taxes we pay. 

Once we rinse, we repeat. 

You tell yourself: 

"I've got to travel again." 

Ironic that all the effort put into getting home tends to make one want to leave home just as quickly. 

It does pay it keep a partially packed suitcase. You'll never know when you may pull the trigger and bid farewell to mom, dad, and Spot all over again. 

Rinse. 

Repeat. 

Be inspired continuously. 

MC