It’s 6:30pm in JFK and having never been one for goodbyes—even short ones—my cheeks are admittedly tear stained having just parted ways with my boyfriend outside security. I am now sitting here devouring a dinner of cheese and Ritz Crackers as I wrestle to log on to the airport wifi (no luck yet).
I am en route to Morocco—or I will be in just two hours when I’ll be nestled in an aisle seat of a Royal Air Morac flight headed for North Africa. All the promise of adventure is ahead as I savor this pre-trip anticipation of people not yet met, flavors not yet had and sights not yet seen.
The view in front of me is one my dad would love—large bay windows with a setting sun, fluffy clouds and large airplanes casually rolling across the tarmac. Before the world became a dangerous place, we used to go to the airport in Chicago to watch planes take off while having a “dinner” of airport food. My dad always said his dream job would have been to be a pilot as he loved the mechanics and magic of watching planes.
Perhaps that is where my love of travel began—those simple meals and the novelty of watching people from around the world all cross each other’s path before boarding flights to other parts of the world. As I sit here listening to French, Italian, Russian, Arabic and other languages swirl around me, I can’t help but remember those moments with my dad, of simply relishing in all the promise traveling holds.
It’s been a whirlwind day as I have been getting ready to head to the airport. Admittedly, I can be quite a nutcase the day of travel. I think most travel bloggers would have you think we sashay into the airport with our floppy hats and iPhones as we snap picture perfect passport photos. Me on the other hand, I tend to show up frazzled and nervous because (brace yourself readers) I am a travel blogger who is not particularly fond of flying…the irony does not escape me. As I get ready to head on my Topdeck tour of Morocco for ten days, let me take a moment to confess some of my pre-departure quirks.
Confession#1: I am pretty much a travel pharmacist.
I have a pharmacy in my bag or as close as one can get to traveling with a pharmacy. At this very moment, my personal pharmacy is being loaded into the belly of the plane as I have brought everything from probiotics to ear ache medication in my bag…just in case.
Confession #2: I have a take off theme song.
Every time I take off I listen to the Walter Mitty Soundtrack. If you haven’t listened to it, download it now. I like the song ”Step Out” by Jose Gonzalez as it’s perfect for take off.
Confession #3: I have pre-departure traditions that make little sense.
When I leave the apartment before a trip I have to stop and sit down. This might seem odd but this is a family tradition of which I have no idea where it came from. Since I was a little girl, no matter how rushed or frazzled my family is before a trip we will all stop and sit down with our luggage for a moment of calm before we walk out the door.
Confession #4: Cue the violins, I’m the worst at goodbyes.
I’m a sucker for goodbyes. For any onlookers watching me kiss my boyfriend farewell today, they would think I was off to join the Peace Corps for two years rather than join a 10 day Topdeck tour of Morocco. I consider myself quite the romantic so when it comes to goodbyes, I’m admittedly over-the-top dramatic.
Confession #5: You can take the window seat, I’ll take the aisle.
For long flights I love to sit aisle because, let’s face it, there are few things worse than being at the tail end of a sleepy row at 12am and needing to go to the bathroom.
Confession #6: The wanderlust is never turned off, ever.
I am currently in an international terminal waiting for a flight to Morocco and you better believe I still felt a pang of jealousy when I heard the final boarding calls for Paris and Rome announced. Such is the life of a travel addict, I suppose.
Confession #7: I never feel more like a travel blogger than at this very moment..
I’m sitting cross-legged by a Verizon charging tower with a now empty box of cheese and Ritz Crackers next to me and my laptop perched on my knees. Everyone around me is speaking a different language and one can only imagine where they’re going and whether they are headed home or on a trip. I feel utterly privileged to be able to share my upcoming trip with my readers; to soon share photos on my Instagram, to come back to NYC eventually and write story after story about the culture, cuisine and experience of traveling around Morocco. There is something wonderful about knowing that someone, somewhere will read my work, see my photos and start to plan for their own trip to Morocco one day. At this very moment, somewhere between what I know and what I’ve yet to see; I truly feel like a travel blogger.
What are your travel quirks? Don’t be shy! Share them below!