Oy

I feel like I've been beaten with a sack of potatoes, sore and swollen and all that's missing are the wine-colored bruises to provide visual evidence of my discomfort.  But for the first time in twenty five and a half hours I am actually reclining--not airplane "reclining" where my legs won't fit under, behind or around the seat in front of me and which causes me guilt for being as big a pain in the ass to the person behind me as the person in front of me is being to me.  No, this is real reclining on a cushy sofa in the transit lounge at Taipei, Taiwan's airport.

Ooh La La

Alas, the more legitimate Transit Hotel that would have provided a bed was all booked up, but this lounge, in addition to comfy butt-cushioning, also provides free showers!

Not necessarily the swankiest shower situation in which I've ever been, but quite possibly the most blissful after twenty one hours in the air in addition to layovers.


You might ask how my travels have been.  Well, they got off to a tumultuous and tedious start.  I won't bore you with details, but Delta was not playing their A-game yesterday.  Fortunately, I was too exhausted from the two hours of sleep I managed to get to be one of those heinous flyers who thinks the airport is their palace and the staff their personal slaves.


But I got to visit Memphis for the second time.

Of course, the first time I actually got to see Memphis and breathe non-airport air.  On this departing flight, I forcibly fell asleep to avoid the aural torture of listening to the two strangers beside me making small talk for over four hours.  I just don't understand talking to people on planes.  Although, I don't really get chatting at all, so I probably shouldn't restrict this wonderment to air travel.


I also got to visit LAX for a second time.  Of course, the first time I was on my adorable, three-year-old way to Disneyland.  No swimming pools or movie stars made appearances, even while I had to walk (outside!) to a completely different building for international flights and go through security...again.  And it was quite possibly the worst-run security through which I've ever had the misfortune to pass.  Very Dantean.


And then began my fifteen hour flight from the west coast to the east.  We were over the ocean within 45 seconds of takeoff and I realized I would be over the ocean the whole way--over countless gallons, cubic miles of water for fifteen hours with nothing under my feet but a pitlingly small amount of steel and an intimidatingly large amount of air.  And that was when it felt like my journey really began--not at ABIA or standing in line to board China Airlines Flight 005, but when nothing but a vast expanse of air, so easily cleaved, stood between me and the Land of Tomorrow.  Yes, the plane smelled like a retirement home (quite possibly due to the surprising number of old people on it) and the food was (unsurprisingly) terrible, but overall it was much less hellish than LAX.


And now my eyes are starting to cross and my brain beginning to switch to a lower gear, so I'm going to attempt to get some shut-eye in this very well-lit and rather bustling lounge in the middle of the airport on my own.  Fingers crossed I awake to find all my luggage still at hand and haven't missed my flight.  Hanoi tomorrow! :)