You know the classic movie scene with the travelers hustling through the airport frantically to catch their connecting flight?
I must admit I never totally believed that such a situation occurred very often. I connections are often with the same airline, so don't they tell the flight to wait for passengers that are delayed. I mean, delays are not isolate "Jimmy needed to use the washroom and we missed the bus" type delays. More like we have a mechanical issue so hundreds of people are behind schedule.
And yet here I am, an hour and a half behind, set to land exactly one minute before my connecting flight is due to take off. I will be one of those frantically running people, hoping beyond hope that the good people of the Atlanta airport will be aware of and sympathetic to my plight.
Worst case scenario, I arrive in Nassau too late for the last charter plane of the day from the Bahamian capital to San Andros, the beautiful location of my host's home. In which case I will have to practice a skill I did not hone in the slightest during my demanding four years of undergrad: going with the flow.
For lack of superpowers I cannot make this plane go any faster, so instead I will be content to see this day as the dawn of adventure. Will I be marooned in a new country this evening with no idea where to sleep? Only time will tell, but as I look out the plane window at the picturesque views below, I begin to think marooned is not the word anyone uses to describe a night in Nassau, even unplanned. I'm on my way to an oasis (slowly but surely) and the night is bound to be paradisal.