Travelogue

Posted December 2, 2021 by Abbey Metzler

                I am no stranger to travelling home from university for the holidays. Whether by plane, train, or automobile, I have taken many midsemester journeys home for Thanksgiving. Some of them are longer than the others. Driving over thirteen hours from New York to Illinois does not get easier after four years of experience. But, armed confidently with a full set of vaccines, it was finally time to fly home for the break after a missed year.

                Leaving Boston, I headed to Logan International after a full day at my admin job. Not my very finest and most awake travel decision, but when you wait until the last minute to book your tickets you are at the mercy of airline gods far above your understanding. In the pursuit of the least expensive tickets home, I ended up leaving on Monday. Ask anyone what the airports were going to be like this holiday travel week, and you would receive a message of apocalypse. Crowds and the associated chaos of the likes that haven’t been seen since a pre-Covid world. Maybe even worse than that, depending on what news report you are watching or nervous parent that is calling. I am thrilled to report that the American Airlines terminal was anything but riotous that Monday evening. Security was a breeze and, while my flight was full, the seats at the gate were blessedly empty.

                Now, I am a nervous flier. Not surprising if you know anything about me and my numerous, closely held and well-tended fears. I feel this particular anxiety is justified, though. After one flight back from Europe, where the plane was tossed around by the jet stream somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I have a strong aversion to turbulence. To calm this reluctance to board a metal can in the sky, I have a strictly held preflight routine. First, get to the gate early and text my mom. Is this for her sake or mine? It depends on the trip, and how much of the weather forecast I studied the night prior. Then, I take a Sudafed. A tradition started when I had to fly with a sinus infection and the urgent care nurse told me this would ensure that my head would not explode when we hit altitude. I think it makes my ears less stuffed after the flight. In all likelihood, they do nothing.

                From then, I pass the time till boarding by filling my water bottle and watching planes roll into gates. My last ritual of turbulence banishment comes while boarding. I like to go last, letting families and undergraduate students file into line before me. Then, as I step into the plane, I have to touch the metal outside hull. Just a quick tap as I pass through the door, often disguised as a steading hand as I step onto the plane. With that and a hello to the greeting flight attendant, I’m off.

                The flights are never as bad as my imagination predicts them. And, when I’m home the break is a whirlwind of family and food, and fastidiously ignoring any notification from a Simmons.edu address. While I can see my final deadlines on the horizon, I am more anxious to get back to this city I love. The flight back is always less nerve-wracking when Boston is the destination.