Sunday Morning, 06:45
Rotterdam/The Hague Airport. I place my coat, phone and laptop in one of the white containers. My bag follows on the belt. I pass through the metal detector and grab my things. Holding a coffee and a banana while struggling with a bag that’s about to slip off my shoulder I try to manoeuvre myself into a chair. The flight to Faro is leaving in half an hour. I get my laptop out to work on one of my Italian song lyrics, but before I’ve typed the password, I notice that the boarding line has disappeared. Time to get aboard, I guess. I’ll get to work once we’re up in the air. Working while traveling, so efficient!
I watch the airport disappear underneath me while the sun comes up. Such an incredible image! Two (or six?) babies scream. I put on my noise-cancelling headphone and find the lyrics I’m planning to work on. My eyelids get heavy. I give up on the idea of working and manage to close my laptop just before I glide into a dream while Morrissey’s singing Come back to Camden to me. The words “Crew, prepare for landing” startle me awake about three hours later. I hastily wipe a little drool from my cheek.
10:45 (In Portugal)
On the bus from Faro to Beja I’m gazing blissfully at the familiar hills, my laptop sitting patiently in my lap. I spent half of last year in Beja. Now I’m returning for fifty hours to see family and friends and meet new people during a two-day party. Later, after we’ve all had lunch, I’ll get to work in the apartment. Plenty of time. I lean back, find my favourite playlist and continue to gaze.
We’re in for a warm welcome including delicious regional wine and bites. I remind myself not to drink too much, because I really want to get some work done later. I meet great people and when we sit down for lunch after a few glasses, I feel like I’ve known everyone for years.
I’m at the apartment. I have a few hours before dinner to get into those Italian lyrics. Good! I’ll lie down on the bed for a few minutes first.
I come back from a crazy dream. Where am I? It’s dark out. Everybody must be at dinner already! I splash some water on my face and hurry outside. I hope I’m not awfully late. Although I wonder if anyone has ever been on time in Portugal. Walking through the small, meandering streets of Beja I realize I haven’t worked on my lyrics at all today. It’s okay though, because the three hours back on the airplane, plus two hours on the bus and time to hang around at the airport should allow me to get heaps of work done.