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It started with a southern drawl in a busy airport... Everything about that backpack was awkward, from the way it hugged my hips to the way it sat below my ass when I walked. Of course, I didn't experiment with it before I left for my adventure, I just assumed everything would go ok and it would be better than what I was offered by my brother. Never assume. The token Canadian flag was the perfect necessity sewn on the back of the bag. Seeing other people with this flag was curious to me, were they really Canadian or Americans traveling in disguise? Whatever the reason, it was almost comforting to see. This was a comfort I would grow closer to in the next three weeks.I checked my out-of control backpack about five hours before I needed to at the Scandinavian desk. The lady behind the counter was blond, middle-aged and had an accent. This threw me off a bit - she had a southern drawl to her voice and was clearly not Scandinavian as I wished she would be. "Welcome to Scandinavian Airlines. May I have your ticket please?" I eagerly had it waiting for her. My hands shaking a bit and the butterflies in my stomach dancing down to my feet and back up to my neck. "Is this all you are checking in, dear?" I nod and smile with my eyes. She smiles back and hands me the ripped portion of my ticket. "Your flight leaves 5 hours from now and you will need to be in the other building across the tarmac. There's signs everywhere around this place if you get lost ". I smiled, still shaking a little. "Is there anything else I can do for you, dear?" she asked. "I think I'm ok, thank you for asking. Can you tell me when I am going to see my bag again?" I asked nervously. I was more afraid of losing the new clothes I purchased before my trip, rather than my bag itself. Maybe it was another comfort thing I needed to hear from her. She seemed to know the answers. She knew where I was going, where I was suppose to board the plane, when I needed to board the plane and that my ticket voucher meant I didn't have to check in when I arrived in Copenhagen. And to me, at the time, that was all I needed to know in order to trust her. "You won't see that bag there until you reach your final stop, Milan I believe." She was smart and I liked this. I was impressed with the most random things. Maybe I was in a daze as to what was going on at that moment. I was in the United States. I was flying into something that would become one of my most memorable experiences thus far in my life. "Is there anything else?" She wasn't trying to rush me out of the check-in counter, that's for sure. There was no one behind me. I gather only eager people check in 5 hours early. "Thanks, no. Um - have a good day. Thank you!" I replied like a high school cheerleader. I pick up my carry-on MEC bag and begin walking down the hallway towards the busier part of the airport. Over the next couple of weeks, MEC bags worn by Canadian travelers alike, and the royal blue and white logo SAS has employed will be a great comfort to me. I learned that when flying into territory not known, seeing tidbits of home are exciting. I would spend the next 3 hours searching through the airport looking for things to do, people to check out, chocolate bars to stock up on and Halls throat candies to suck on so I could get rid of the head cold I feel coming on. Everything about the Sea-Tac airport was confusing. The air smelled of construction and the dust it kicked up, and the various passengers, pilots and random other people were in a constant rush. There was nothing slow and calm about this place. I took my time wandering through stores, through hallways and eventually through the terminal to the next building which required a 3 minute high speed underground train ride. The box-like building was even more quiet than I expected it to. I had hoped to get some reading in but was more enthralled with the parrot-green Pierre Belvedere writing book I picked up before I left home. My intention was to have this book filled with all my stories, thoughts, observations, and emails of people who I've met along the way. I was shortly on my way. The story had just begun... Posted by Bella at 7:17 AM# 0 Comments:
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