Greetings from the international terminal of Chicago O’Hare. I’m currently sitting in the seating area for M11, my boarding gate for the Chicago-London leg of my trip. At the moment, I’m texting my best friend, who just sent me some cute animal pictures, and pretending that I wasn’t just #publiccrying a little bit. I’m also trying to pretend that I didn’t buy a $6 yogurt parfait from Starbucks, but there’s only so much I can lie to myself.
In a little under two hours, I’ll be on my transatlantic flight. I’m in seat 49 G, which, if memory serves me, should be a window seat on the right side of the plane. I’ll land at 7 am London time, then have few hours to bide until my short one hour Belfast flight. I should get in to Belfast at about 2 p.m. local time, which with the time difference will be the time when people are waking up and getting going in the Treasure Valley.
Since leaving Boise on Thursday, I’ve been oscillating between feeling excited, blasé, and anxious about the whole five-month trip. Sitting in the airport with that $6 parfait in my stomach, I’m a little on the stressed-with-a-mild-headache side, but I’m sure I’ll settle down eventually. In a little bit, I’ll repack up the laptop, and go in search of the drinking fountain. I’ll also make the switch from contacts to glasses, take a stroll around the terminal, and listen for snatches of foreign language conversations.
The international terminal is about 10x less crowded and hectic than the regular terminals, and I’m very glad to be over here. The food even looks better. There’s almost no one at my enormous gate, but the people that are here are all facing the football game that on TV. That means they’re all facing the same way, and they’re almost all men. Over in the regular terminal, I sat opposite a nun while noshing on that parfait. I’m definitely an airport eavesdropper, and she was on her iphone trying to reroute another nun to Rome. So far she’s the most interesting person, but I have high hopes for the international terminal.
Well, that’s all for now, but soon I’ll be mining a pit of Belfast blogging material, so stay tuned.
From Gate M11,