2:55am

“You can only come to the morning through the shadows.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien

May 2, 2013 (Continued)

Prague Ruzyne Airport doesn’t even open until 4:00am. Not that is an interesting point to consider. The airport closes. It doesn’t close in the sense of “lock the doors and everyone go home” but it does close. All of the check-in counters close. All of the restaurants close. Security closes. There are no flights in or out between a certain time range.

There were a handful of people milling around the terminal. Several homeless people were lying across the benches. A few over-egger travelers like myself had also arrived early. Then entire room was so quiet, you could practically hear each other breathing.

I found one café that was open and got a blueberry muffin and some English breakfast tea. I’d known I was going to have some extra time at the airport (I had no idea how much extra time) so I’d made arrangements to Skype my friend James. Booting up my iPod, I gave him a call.

We talked until he had to go eat dinner. I told him I’d call him back once I got through security (to kill the remaining 2 hours I was going to have.) While I waited, I texted with Bryan—I don’t care if it makes me sound like an American, a teenager, or what, but having reliable WiFi is a wonderful thing.

The check-in desk opened at 4:00. I was the first and only person in line. Presenting my passport, they printed my boarding pass. A kindergartener with a crayon could have produced a more professional looking document. It was very basic wit just my name, my flight number, the gate number, and my seat assignment (a window!)

I went to security where again I was the first and only person in line. I presented my passport and my boarding pass to the woman. She studied it, and then looked over to the other guards. She looked back at my passport, then back to them. It seemed like she wanted to call them over. After several awkward seconds of staring at each other, she let me through. That was when I realized, they didn’t have any of the scanners turned on; she was holding me to give them more time.

I put my things into a bin on the conveyor belt. They had me wait for a few more minutes to make sure the machine was all the way on. Once it activated, I passed through with no problem and made my way down to gate C7 (across from where I’d taken off for Switzerland.)

All of the escalators and moving sidewalks were switched off for the night. Only the emergency lighting was on, and much of the terminal was still dark. I walked down several hallways without seeing another person.

At the gate, I found an outlet to plug in my iPod, and called James back. He had done a little research on Smartwings for me. It turned out, that since I arrived in Prague on Feburary 8^th, the airline has had two different crashes. Both of them occurred during take off out of Prague Ruzyne International Airport.

James and I hadn’t talked in a while so I got him caught up on my adventures in Amsterdam and in Zurich. We laughed at the fact that apparently stupid Americans were the only people who showed up at the airport 2 hours before a flight. I had the gate to myself until almost 5:00.

As more and more people showed up, the WiFi gradually slowed down. James and I said goodbye and I hung up. Putting away my iPod, I noticed all the different languages and accents that were flying to Paris. They seemed to be mostly Czech and French (not a lot of Europeans travel at 5am unless they have to.)

French is a language that really puzzles me. The only two words I remembered from Will and Cole was “peu” (which means “little.”) They had tried to teach me how to say “I only speak a little French” but “little” was all I remembered. Mary had taught me “seva” which she said was slang, like “Ok.” Thibaut had taught me “please” (“s’il vous plait” pronounced “se-voo-pley”) but I couldn’t say it to save my life. Everyone back home had given me horror stories of the French being awful and rude to tourists who didn’t speak French.

This was going to be fun.

I journalled a bit, before I heard a boarding call. I got up to get on the plane, but no one else did. They also weren’t letting anyone on the plane. Apparently it had been a “false alarm”…?

I sent Bryan another text and he warned me that Charles Du Gaulle Airport has a reputation for being the hardest airport to navigate. More international flights are missed there than any other European airport, because of its large and erratic layout. With a “good luck” text from Bryan, I heard a real boarding call and went to get on the plane.

My seat was 22A. There wasn’t much leg room, but more than I’d had with Easyjet. I stored my bag under the seat in front of me. My foot was craned a little awkwardly and it started to hurt, but I shrugged off—not much I could do about it anyway.

As we taxied out, I had to chuckle a little thinking about the facts James had shared with me. We however had a successful take off and rapidly climbed above the still falling rain to our cruising altitude.