A friend asked me a couple years ago why I stopped adding to what I’d started to refer to as “The Airport Chronicles.” I didn’t have a good answer. I changed jobs to something more stressful, my mother passed away, I struggled more with my health, and I stopped making things generally. I didn’t stop travelling, but I did stop writing publicly about it. Blogging on Cobweb dropped off and my co-bloggers picked up their own narratives elsewhere. I had a few drafts put together, and notes for what I hadn’t drafted yet, but little bandwidth.
Inspired by a wee contest, I remembered that I like travel writing and there’s a story here I wanted to tell. So I’d better get it written down.
The story is over 7 years old now, and we’ve all been barred from travel for the past year. I’ll try to keep the change and drama of the past 7 years out of these accounts, though they may bleed in. Most important, though, is finally finishing this chronicle. I have stories of subsequent travels as well that I’d like to share, after closing out this one.
"It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the expression 'as pretty as an airport.' Airports are ugly. Some are very ugly. Some attain a degree of ugliness that can only be the result of a special effort." - Douglas Adams