Airports

Fast forward to the drive: Cait and I are are being driven to the airport by Anthea and Luis. Excited, surreal and enthusiastic.

Luis very kindly calls one of his (very many) connections and gets us nicer seats - yay legroom - and lounge access.

Going through security with two full soft flasks in my fastpack causes Cait and I to have to down them and enter the lounge full of water - we still do a good job of trying to eat as much of the buffet as possible.

Time flies and it’s time to board. Two teenagers talk and laugh loudly in line, we pray we aren’t seated next to them (we’re not, phew).

The extra legroom is incredible. Legs up, I wasn’t made for airplanes. It’s a rather strange flight time, to take off at about 7pm. You’d think that it would be easy to get straight to sleep but alas. Cait and I are in half-sleep for many hours, interspersed by eating, reading, Cait watches a strange show.

Our in-flight screens don’t work - I’m ready to fabricate a lie that we booked Emerites for their “World Class in-flight entertainment” and asked to be upgraded to Business Class. Unfortunately my class is foiled by a helpful flight attendant who promptly fixes screen. Darn.

After a sleep we’re getting close to Dubai. The sun is rising over the crest of the earth. A soft rainbow of pastel colors ascents from orange through peach into dark blue fills the windows.

Touchdown. Dubai. Chaos.

Hunger, exhaustion and a desperate need for a bathroom makes the next half an hour very confusing. We manage to sort out our hierarchy of needs (AKA bathroom was required (also - they have heated bum guns here (AKA pleasure pistols (ok, enough nested brackets)))).

Starbucks turns out to offer the table we're searching for. A coffee the price of a meal later and this will be our home for the next forever.

Cait taps away at the final project pre-post-employment and the hours stretch out. Circadian rhythms have no beat, probably shouldn’t have had that coffee 🤪

The flight to Lisbon is smooth. We both manage to sleep a little and the hours fly by. Once again I’m plagued by whatever trashy thing the person in front of me is watching, unable to look away. With no sound I’m forced to fill in the blanks of a show that I can only imagine is Forrest Gump meets Bridgerton. (The show turns out to be called Ghosts).

Touchdown. Passports. Security. Baggage reclaim. It’s warm and slow. We’ve made it.

eSims. And we walk out into the Portuguese twilight. Now it’s 9pm and the sun is still up - I could get used to this.

The shuttle that will take us to the rental car place has a short queue. A man reeking of wealth and entitlement tries in vain to charter the whole van for himself, he’s told politely to go away by the driver. Next up is a couple trying to find their Uber. They manage to cycle between about three different languages and what feels like tell their life story before wondering off. It’s our turn and far more efficient, we’re in and driving down the winding steep streets.

That rental car smell. It’s nostalgic even if this is the first rental you ever get in. It’s the smell equivalent of the feeling you get when you sit in a car in the afternoon sun, winter outside and there’s no rush to get out.

All this romantic dreaming evaporates quite quickly as my left hand reaches for the gear stick only to find the door and I chant “drive on the right” in my head while we blindly follow Google Maps into the Portuguese night.

After only one off ramp missed and a slight detour we arrive at the port. I haven’t taken in any scenery; eyes didn’t leave the road. Adelaide meets as and directs us into the marina.

We arrive at Santa Maria II; our Airbnboat and home for the next three nights. Water laps the side soothingly while we’re briefed on how not to break the toilet.

Post travel and drive and my body and mind is slowly going offline. A shower buys me ten more minutes of life, enough to get into bed and have a dreamless sleep.