I love airports. A relatively small building represents thousands of stories along with all of the accompanying emotions. I love that the arrivals hall is generally a happy place, full of love, hugs and kisses, whereas departures is full of the same love, hugs and kisses but it's often a lot more sombre.
Each person who walks through the "point of no return" has his or her own story. For some it's comforting to take the first step of a journey back home, it may represent the start of a boring business trip, or for many it brings the relief that comes with starting a long-planned holiday.
For me, it was a daunting experience. It's the first time that I've ever made that walk alone and the first time that I've embarked on an extended trip. I felt relieved, proud of myself, shit-scared, ALONE!
Once you get air-side, it's all a bit of an anti-climax. This is only heightened by the 13 hr trip to LA. I did, however, score the ultimate economy seat; first row of economy, on the aisle, with a spare seat between me and the person next to me. I sat next to a young Canadian girl who was heading back home after a few weeks in Aus.
There's nothing like US immigration to get the adrenaline going again. Here's a tip...when you're flying into Hollywood claiming to be making your debut on the agricultural circuit, don't tell the immigration bloke that you've got a background in film production. I was interrogated for about 15mins while they did background checks. Those guys wield a lot of power and they're not afraid to splash it around a bit. I swear so much has to do with the officer you get and the mood that that person is in. I think my guy was a bit pissed that he was on the early shift.
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