I perpetually find myself in a mindset of nostalgia whilst traveling from one place to the next. Whether it be for an exciting occasion or a tragedy, I’ve always thought of airplanes in a very sentimental way.
Boarding the plane is typically somewhat of a mystery— will I meet the love of my life? Or will I be sitting next to a fat lady licking Cheetos off her fingertips? You never know what you’re going to get! Most of the time, I luck out with my seat neighbors. Though, I’ll never forget my way home from South Africa last summer. It was one of those tiny planes, where your head is practically touching the ceiling and there are two seats per row. I was under the impression that I had the row to myself and I was ecstatic. “Final call flight 5746, final call!” Suddenly, this young looking guy wearing a visor and goggles comes running frantically down the aisle and plops down next to me. God dammit. Within the first 30 minutes of the flight, I could tell you his life story from start to finish. A reaaaal chatterbox, that one.
The point is, everyone is on that specific plane for an explicit reason and, unless your seat neighbor is someone similar to this dude, you most likely don’t know the story behind their travels. That is a concept that I will forevermore find alluring. To your left is a 25-year-old woman relocating her life in hopes of further career opportunities, and to your right is a 36-year-old man heading to a funeral to mourn the loss of his high school companion. Behind you is a husband coming home early from a business trip to surprise his wife, and in front of you is an 80-year-old couple on their way to their grandson’s destination wedding. But how would you ever know any of this?
Planes are funny like that. You gather anywhere between 75 and 500 strangers in a confined space and take them from one destination to another, miles upon miles apart. You hop on a plane in New York and in 8 hours you’re in London. You hop on a plane in London and in 2 hours you’re in Amsterdam. It blows my mind.
What I find quite thought-provoking is the moment when your flight comes to its final destination and you’re abruptly parting ways with the person you’ve been sitting uncomfortably close to for the last few hours. Going on with your lives, knowing that you will more than likely never run into each other again. In many cases, this is a complete and utter relief, while under rare circumstances, considerable bonds are formed between seatmates.
A few weeks ago, I flew from Ireland to Italy and got heavily intoxicated off of some white wine with the lady sitting next to me (Elizabeth, a 41-year-old cute little woman from the United Kingdom). We spent the entire flight giggling and exchanging stories. A melancholy goodbye, if I’m honest!
Personally, my favorite part is exiting the plane and watching everyone disperse… some are rushing to catch a taxi, while others are running lustfully into the arms of their loved ones.
Airplanes tell stories.
