Never Ending Night

A little something I wrote for travel writing:

I looked at my watch again. 2:17am. I moaned and tried to shift my legs but the back of the bench prevented me from turning.  The cold metal bars were digging into my body in multiple places, although my right hip was suffering the most.  My stomach was growling loudly.  Probably because all I had for ‘dinner’ was two king sized Kit-Kats.  My throat was feeling dry too but we had run out of water an hour ago.

Did sleeping in jail feel like this?  It had to be similar with a cold uncomfortable floor and bright neon lights.  Limited food and no blankets added to the illusion.  I could hear men talking near by that might have provided an entertaining ease drop if it hadn’t been in another language.  Their voices seemed to be growing louder, or was my exhaustion getting to me?  A baby was crying in the distance.  Louder and louder and louder.  Wait, there are no babies in jail.  But then I remembered I was not in jail.  I was spending the night in the Milan airport.

The plan had been to depart the plane and remain in the main airport through the security check point.  Then we could easily catch our flight out the next morning.  I confidently assured my boyfriend that there would be padded places to sleep and safe areas to put our stuff.  We could get dinner there too.  After a few days in Barcelona I was craving pasta carbonara.  Or maybe a huge pizza with mozzarella and fresh tomatoes.  Yes, the airport would be perfect.  Just like a hotel.   

What I was not expecting was to be bused to the baggage claim.  Before I knew it we found ourselves outside the airport, 40 miles outside of the city of Milan.  We made our way to terminal 2 where our plane was scheduled to depart the following morning.  I was surprised to find a majority of the benches already occupied with other travelers who had the same idea as us.  We found one of the last open benches, right in the middle and claimed it as our own.  This would be fine.

3:26. The air felt colder and I was shivering more than before.  I longed to be back in Nice strolling the beach promenade.  I tried closing my eyes and imagined the sun beating down on my face but this daydream was not enough to warm my body.  My hip was numb now and my neck was throbbing.   I would never be able to fall back asleep.

5:17 I was awake again.  There were more people in the terminal than before.  Was it time for us to check in yet?  Not for another hour and a half.  For the next thirty minutes I was in a half sleep trance.  Voices and shapes blurred together and I felt as if I was on a massive dose of pain medication.  At one point my boyfriend asked what I was smiling about because clearly there was nothing funny about the situation.

7:30 Standing in the security line felt like finding water after a long walk in the desert.  I held an average blueberry muffin in my hand but my exhaustion had taken a toll on my appetite.  The plane would be my safe haven and I smiled at the thought of sitting in a comfy cushioned chair.  Walking there would not be a problem.  I had just spent the night in an airport and survived.  I could do anything.