Whenever we travel by air my wife and I do anything possible to minimize the time we spend in airports. We rarely arrive at the airport much before boarding time, and we always try to take direct flights or ones with short layovers. So it is the height of irony then that we have lived the last four days in the Orlando airport—and yes we even did it on purpose. The two pictures above are the view from our hotel room in the Hyatt Regency at MCO. That’s the airport code which I’m guessing means Mickey Central Orlando? The first picture is of a beautiful fountain in the main atrium of the terminal, and the second is a closer shot of the security lines in the upper right of picture one. TSA has multiple security lines on both sides of the entrance to the hotel so it is impossible to forget where we are. I feel like the Tom Hank character living in the Charles De Gaulle airport in the movie “The Terminal.”
The app for the airport says that 45,000,000 pass through here every year, and I believe it judging the number of people in the food court each time we go there to eat. That number computes to an average of approximately 123,000 people per day; or the size of a small city, mostly frazzled folks dragging luggage and grump kids as they rush from one terminal to another. Sounds like a great vacation getaway, right?
So why you ask in the name of Donald Duck are we living in an airport? No, this is not one of those internet scams where we are asking family and friends to send money so we can afford to come home. And no it is not because some airline stranded us here among all the little fans of Disney princesses. We are here because Diana is attending a conference which offered a great rate on 4 star hotel, and I came along to hang out, relax, read, write and it turns out do a lot of people watching, the primary indoor sport at MCO.
I have enjoyed the relaxation and time to work out, swim, read, etc. but I’ve also learned a very important life lesson. I have often said, yes I admit like a broken record, and that I am ready to be done with yard work and move into a condo or high rise apartment. For the record I’m still not crazy about yard work, but I have learned this week that I really do miss green grass, birds singing, and the great outdoors. My only ventures into the outside world this week have been an uber ride to the grocery and even a couple walks “outside” where the arrival or departure vehicles drop passengers off or pick them up.
The other part of that life lesson is that I’ve often pondered the reasons I’ve been attracted to and married two women who love the outdoors. I’ve sometimes thought it was just God’s sense of humor at work, but now I know that in spite of all the complaining I’ve done over the years about the chores that go along with country living I too need my space and some natural beauty. Now I know I will probably forget when I get home and find my grass is deep enough to bail hay, so I’ll email this to myself as a reminder.
In the meantime I can check “living in an airport” off my bucket list.
Peacefully Harsh 