This is one of the best moments of a vacation in my mind. You’ve planned for months, paid for the tickets, counted down the days. Waited not-so-patiently for it to get here.
Time seemed to slow down those last few days at work before a vacation. You looked at the clock on the wall and it said quarter-past two in the afternoon. What seemed like hours passed and you looked back at the same clock. Half-past two. Time is standing still, mocking you.
Finally, done with work, you’ve arranged for a colleague to handle things while you’re gone, set up an out-of-the-office email autoreply, and walked out the door into sweet sweet freedom. Suddenly time steps on the gas pedal and starts racing you. There’s not enough minutes to do all the last minute things that have to happen before a big trip. Oh why didn’t you start packing sooner?
But relax: you’re on vacation. The departure day has arrived, you’re all packed, you’ve got your passport and your tickets. You make it through security at the airport. The flight is on-time.
It’s that time between work and vacation. Starting to decompress from the stress and routine and rigor of everyday life and go explore somewhere new. It’s time to escape. And at the gate in front of you, sleek and powerful, buzzing with activity, is the machine that will get you there.
I tend to remember every airplane I’ve flown on for vacations. This was the 777-200 that took us to Italy back in the summer of 2011 (actually, 777 to Frankfurt, Germany then an A321 down to Rome). It was an amazing trip marked by my first up-close encounters with Bernini, Velazquez, and Michaelangelo in Rome and some truly breathtaking natural scenery in Cinque Terre.
A very crowded Spanish Steps in Rome – July 2011
Corniglia from the high path above Manarola, Cinque Terre