The wonders of airport queuing

The anticipation of leaving for any sort of travelling is always overwhelming. You're so excited that you don't know what to do with yourself but parallel to that you're tense and nervous, can't relax. You're on an absolute high with the fact that within the day you will have started your journey and be taking in all the new sights and be buzzing from the culture however, first, you're going to have to say goodbye. That horrid word that can mean anything from "see you tomorrow" to "fuck, I'm not going to be able to look into your eyes for another 2 months." But some people are definitely worth fighting through the time away for.
So the waiting game begins. The waiting for the check-in gate to open (which is now all electronic and I'm hoping I haven't sent my hold luggage to Morocco instead of Milan). Waiting for the queue of people fannying about with those little plastic bags for your under 100ml toiletries. Waiting awkwardly for the man to nod at you after walking through the security gate and it feeling like a whole hour as you pray "please don't go off, please don't go off." Waiting for your gate number to come up while struggling through the hoards of people trying to pick up all the duty-free deals, who still have luggage, which has to be over the hand luggage size. Waiting at the gate, when the queue for gate 26, 27 and 28 is somewhat unclear and you have to peer over people's shoulders to see if their ticket matches yours because do you really want to be the one who pushes in and pretends not to realise. Waiting while the token crazy man sits in everyone else's seat and complains about it. Only after this can you actually sit back, touching thighs and arms with the people next to you, wishing you'd got that bottle of water out the overhead locker before you wedged yourself in ready to zone out and pretend to try and sleep for 2 hours. 

Despite this, you can observe, dream and imagine about the lives of all the people encountered in an airport. The family with two double buggies full of children and the dishevelled mother who really needed a quiet weekend at home - what were they thinking. The lads holiday, all with inside joke nicknames on the back of their t-shirts, and you can usually work out which one is going to get drawn on, tattooed or so drunk they'll sleep in the hotel lobby. 

But everyone knows this. Travelling is not about repeating the airport games done by so many before. This time alone is not to be wished away. To sit and ponder dreams and unimaginable situations that you couldn't ever comprehend while sitting at your desk at work is invaluable. Imagine what you would do if you could. Like living two lives, for me, one would be in Italy. The slow but passionate life style, with the heat and the cheese. The other would be the busy life of London, trying to fit everything into the hours of the day. 

Take this time to think about the important things that you know you think about but that deserve more thought. To escape and watch the world go by before you step off the plane and feel the wall of heat and the sun on your face and know that you've got your head clear, you know what you'll miss, what you want to do and the endlessly wonderful things you have to look forward to. 

An adventure is only as good as you make it, so make every detail something to talk about.