Why vacations to the states? I have asked myself this question many times; especially since it’s a choice many friends of mine take. Every year you start organizing your vacation; to which part of the planet? Take yourself to a travel agency and start looking for tons of details from catalogs, maps which promise relax, enjoyment and sun. Waiting on line in the agency your eyes fall on a small comer of a half hidden magazine and glimpse Monument valley or the Empire State Building.
Suddenly your heart starts beating as it hasn’t in months and you ask yourself “why not”. Reasoning - you realize and understand that the world is big, various and full of other places to got. But nothing, something has turned on that red-light inside, that warning that makes you know where it’s taking you. You sit patiently listening to the tour operator without interrupting, while she illustrates the various destinations. Destination Taken! As you’re going home you start dreaming and drawing your route for your new adventure, route to routes map to map your brain is constantly working.
The only problem left is to convince your mate to follow you on this ulterior mission and punctually she says a cubical "NO”. But this scene has been repeated many other times, and at the end it's her that doesn’t want to come home. You wait and deep in your heart you know she will surrender, she has already seen the states and how big or small they can be at the same time, of how much they leave inside of you something unforgettable, they make you feel alive. For me they are my second house, at the point that arriving to the airport USA my eyes sees plains leaving and the desire to see all the places already seen again.
You start consulting guides, books in search of anything and everything. The exiting part is that you know that you will go, and that everything else doesn’t interest, doesn’t matter at all. In the meantime the days pass fast and as you start your count down the tension starts rising. You begin glancing through your old English books just to get some dust off before starting your adventure. A trip to the states is like an appointment with beautiful women you can not go empty handed. Finally the day of departure has arrived; you control your luggage thousand times then leave towards the airport witch makes so that you must weak up in strange hours to catch the flight, that fluctuates always between six and seven am.
That day strangely the tiredness does not exist, you feel like an athlete ready for his competition. Even if you have slept only a few hours your sleepiness disappears and your imagination starts running all those imagines seen in the guide books, old movies and internet. As you’re traveling towards the airport your main object is approaching and when you start boarding and the Stewart offers you the Wall Street Journal you understand….My dream has come threw. After 5/6 hours traveling you see outside the tiny window dark fields of the state of Canada, you realize that within a half an hour you are in America. The most beautiful moment is after landing taking the tunnel to the airport luggage bin, you realize you are in another world.
Rushing towards the traditional luggage and sever passport control your pressure grows, afraid that something goes wrong. Once the customs officer stamps the visa, your heart starts beating normally again. At this point the only thing that separates you from your Grand American dream is the sliding door that magically opens. Suddenly holding your breath and your eyes tightly closed a flash of all the American imagines you’ve seen invades your mind. The desire to start is too much. Slowly opening your eyes you focus your dreams, which are no longer dreams. You close the zipper of your sweatshirt, put on your sun glasses and let yourself overwhelmed of all that is….. America. |
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