Overseas Briefing - 5/6

NOTTINGHAM — I love airports.  I love the fact that everyone has a place to go and a story to tell, and I admit it, I like Cinnabon quite a bit, too.  However, I hadn’t planned on spending 33 hours in the Prestwick Airport in Glasgow, Scotland, and before you ask, no, it actually had nothing to do with the volcano in Iceland.  You know the one I’m talking about.  Don’t make me attempt to type the name.

I had just spent the weekend in Dublin, so the next stop on my travels was Glasgow, Scotland.  I would only be able to spend two nights and a day in Scotland, but I had my flights booked, my hostel reserved, and I was feeling good.  I got to the Prestwick Airport with a little over an hour to get to my hostel (they had a strict check-in deadline) only to find out that my hostel was about an hour’s worth of travel away.  The woman at Information warned me that I might not make it on time, so rather than risk ending up in the middle of a big city at night with no place to stay, I decided to sleep over in the airport.

I wasn’t too broken up about it.  There was a bar, a gift shop, a Starbucks, and a bookstore, so I settled in amongst the cheap trinkets and overpriced lattes and prepared for a sleepless, lonely night.  I bought 24-hour access to the Internet and planned to spend the night watching TV online and Skyping my friends back home, and I was surprised when the last plane took off and there were still 25 or so people in the airport just … sleeping.  I did not and still don’t have any idea why so many people needed to sleep over in such a small airport on the outskirts of Glasgow, but I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them.  It was comforting to have so many sleeping bodies around me:  I felt like I was in the Main Library during finals week at Midd.

The next morning rolled around and I thought, “Okay, Kim, time to break out of your comfort zone — get into town and do something fun!”  My idea of fun, by the way, is visiting local libraries and reading in the park.  But after I grabbed breakfast at the airport, I took a look outside and saw dismal grey clouds and cold rain:  not very conducive to a day at the park.

Then I found out that the actual price of getting to my hostel in town would be about $30 round trip.  That was almost the cost of my flight!  And why would I want to go out on such a yucky day…when I could stay inside in a comfy airport?
I knew my friends would have a field day with me when they found out:  “Kim, you were in a new country and you spent all your time in the AIRPORT?!”  I’m definitely not your typical tourist, and I don’t really care.  That day “in Scotland” (count it or not, that’s your decision) was one of my favorite parts of the Easter vacation.  I had the run of airport all day, unlimited Internet, and a bartender who recognized me from the first night and asked, “You’re still here?!”  Some would probably say that the day was entirely uneventful and I’m a failure at traveling, but I think airports are some of the most fascinating places to spend your time and people-watch.  Just look around and enjoy.  And maybe buy a Cinnabon if you can.