Okay, so maybe we won't be wandering in the desert for 40 years (hopefully), but it feels almost Biblical as we start our own adventure. Holly and I are on the flight to Houston, where we will catch a flight to Buenos Aires. We said our (slightly tearful) goodbye to her mother as we entered the airbridge for the first of many flights over the next 9 months. The anxiety I felt before we left Holly's mom's house for the airport has been replaced by mostly excitement and, surprisingly, a calmness. Holly is her usual outwardly calm self.
Flying with only carry-on bags didn't last past our first flight. The flight from Salt Lake City to Houston is 3 hours on a commuter jet. Seriously?We don't rate at least a 737? The lady at the gate said our bags wouldn't fit in the cabin, so she gave us checked bag tags. We didn't believe her, but, of course, she was right. Lesson learned, listen to the flight attendants. We took out the essentials and then I struggled my way back up the aisle to deliver our bags to the guy waiting on the airbridge. Hope this isn't some kind of omen about our luggage.
I guess I should be soaking up every aspect of this journey, but right now I won't be too disappointed when this flight is over. Holly has been reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and now is resting. I was building my adventure reading list, pulling recommendations from the latest issue of Outside magazine, before I started writing. Excited as I am about the forthcoming big adventures--Antarctica, Machu Picchu, New Zealand--I am also excited about the mundane--having coffee in the morning, reading great books, writing this blog. Undoubtedly, being able to share the mundane with Holly, wherever we are, is what makes it exciting. While this flight may not be exciting me, I hope I never forget what a joy it is to go on this big adventure or share my life with someone so special to me.