With morning light falling fresh, the five of us trudged our weary limbs down the pathways of Mt. Misen.
Now that we’ve been on this plane for six hours or so, it has dawned on me that international flights are essentially a species of cultural limbo. Multiple languages, multiple cultures, multiple peoples all homogenized into the experience of jet travel. Neither here nor there. Weird.
4:27am: Eat banana and dry cereal. Attempt not to be tired. Fail.
4:44am: Arrive at airport. Find United Airlines. Proceed through check-in rigamarole.