I love traveling.
Arrived at San Francisco last night after a long flight (including transits-21 hours), and now I’m currently on a flight to Vegas.
Listening to ‘Come Fly With Me’ while looking out over the San Francisco Bay, staring over the altostratus clouds and marveling at the hilly ranges.
Pure bliss, I say.
We haven’t really done anything yet, the past 36 hours have pretty much solely been dedicated to transport to our destination, but I think that’s the whole point of traveling.
Just leisure and bliss. Feeling like there’s nothing for you to do but wander.
Started off with a nice Cranberry White Chocolate Mocha at the Singapore airport (which was a delight to say the least, but I have to say my favorite of the Christmas Starbucks series is still the peppermint mocha). I felt utterly comfortable and ready to doze off on the plane with my warm coffee and soft cardigan.
We transited in Hong Kong and because our first flight was delayed by 40 minutes, we literally had 10 minutes to get onto our next flight. Luckily for us our luggage managed to make it to the next flight, though we later found out that granny’s luggage was left behind in HK (worst of luck because she’s the only one who would really care- with all her long johns and medication and comfy irreplaceable little things- the rest of us would jump at the chance to get new clothes covered by insurance!)
Long ten hour flight covered about four movies (Total Recall, Brave, Mission Impossible, The Matrix). When we finally pulled into the San Francisco Airport, I watched the slow crawl of the buses and cars on the highways- little specks of glowing red dappling the streets, like some kind of viscous neon fluid flowing through a long tube.
It makes you feel humble and grand at the same time.
Makes you marvel at the world and yet recoil in its greatness.
Makes you feel infinite.
sorry for the overused perks of being a wallflower reference, it just struck my mind