I’m wearing two long-sleeves, a t-shirt over it, a sweater ánd on top of that my zip-up hoodie, but my bag is probably still over the weight limit. I was able to close it way easier than I had expected, so chances are likely that I forgot something.
In Brussels, I usually check in my carry-on, just because I don’t like the hassle of the security where you have to take everything out to then try remake your carefully worked-out puzzle in a few minutes. Lisbon airport is not my home-base though, so I’m not sure if I can even check my bag in and if so, it would just be a different problem to figure out.
There’s a direct metro to the airport, but I’ve already been living the going-over-budget life in Lisbon, so I figured what is €7 difference for the comfort of an Uber over the busyness of a metro where I would probably have to stand all the way. Yesterday there was a huge public transport strike too (not just trains ór metro ór buses – no, everything!) and they warned that the days before and after, transport would not be completely as normal yet.
The car drives me from one side of Lisbon to the other and instead of leaving, I feel like I am just yet arriving. I see parts of the city I haven’t seen and thus not recognize and I imagine being in a whole new country.
I’m naturally a nervous person – though I like to act as if I’m not – so when I was getting ready this morning, I was too occupied with the clock and making sure I had everything packed, to realize I’m leaving. When I said goodbye to Ayana, the last volunteer standing, I didn’t really feel the sadness that I know will hit me in a day or two. My mind still assumes I will just see her in the evening like any other day, so we hugged and and smiled and agreed we’ll meet again soon. “You’re not getting rid of me”, I told her with a smile.
I arrive at the airport and thank the Uber a couple of times and smile widely. With my heavy bag on my weak back, I set off to terminal 1, where I am meeting Alexa. She insisted on waving me off and I gladly accepted the offer. She’s already there so I look around until I see her bright red hair – it’s woven in two long braids. Her lipstick is almost the same color as her hair, and her eyelids are decorated with their usual glitter. we hug and I stand in front of her with my sweaty forehead hidden under my cap (hopefully), no make-up and as mentioned before, five layers of clothes.
I am early – it’s 10:30 and my gate closes at 12:55, so we sit down and I buy her a salted caramel iced latte and fresh orange juice for myself (I expect the orange juice to be cheaper in Morocco, and that will seriously make me the happiest person on earth). We sit down and talk and I don’t think either of us really realizes I’m leaving. Then again, since she’s coming to Belgium for New Year’s, it’s not going to be long until we meet again.
With the memory of the last flight I took (if you don’t remember how I almost missed it, you can read about it here) in the back of my mind, I feel more nervous than usual about my time judgment, so a little past 11:30, we walk towards the security checkpoint and say goodbye.
Now, I’m at gate 41 waiting to board. The gate was supposed to close at 12:55, but with the delay, that got pushed too. It is 20 minutes later when boarding starts and well, I’m getting on that plane now!
Next time I post, I will be in Morocco hihi.
-Cels
CelsAway 
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