Departure, Going on two days
We left the apartment in the Malá Strana one to two days early, as Don and František offered to let us stay with them. Since those were about the most I’d had a chance to see them, and because František offered to give us a lift to the airport this morning, I jumped at it. The bartender at Malý Glen was deeply confused when I tried to give her the keys. “You’re leaving?” Yes. “You’re booked until Tuesday.” Technically Monday, but yes, here are the keys. “You’re leaving-leaving?”
I’m used to having difficulties getting into a place here, never getting out.
Anthropologists used to get wound up out “liminal” spaces (they might still, but I’m out of touch), places that are neither here nor there – “betwixt and between” is the favorite assonant combination. A moving car. An airport. They are, clearly, places, but an airport (in this case) exemplifies the idea of transit and transition. My destination is not the airport any more than the plane is.
I’m playing fast and loose here with definitions, but you get the idea. I’m not “in Prague,” and I’m not home.
Is that why sitting in an airport seems without time and to be never-ending all at once?
Except that it is a place, a place in which you are trapped until your transit actually begins. Which is why I was charged nearly $5.50 (110 kčs) for a small cup of coffee.
For Kelly’s saga, go here (have a cup of coffee with you, it really is a saga.)