First Leg

I arrived at Heathrow this morning. I made it out of the airport--after several redirected attempts due to a fire in the a key terminal--and boarded a coach to Oxford City.
I found a cozy pub and sat down to collect my thoughts.
I love being out of America. I thought about one set of plans we had to live outside the country and began to ask myself how we ended up in NC. Then the door opened and I felt the 25-degree wet weather outside. England does not show her best side during winter.
After eating Irish sausage over Colcannon and drinking a cup of tea, I hopped in a taxi for RAF Brize Norton. I arrived to the airport terminal to find that other passengers were boarding a flight for the Middle East. The mood was quite somber. All the camo uniforms with matching backpacks and military issue black bags draped the terminal in a monotone color. Floor-to-ceiling windows displaying the dreary gray sky did not help the muted colors. Like a target, my hot pink carry-on is the brightest thing on the base.
Someone asked me where I was headed and why. I told them I was flying to Ascension en route to St Helena to document the lives of the Saints. I explained that an airport was going to be built on the island in the next several years and I wanted to document these people's lives before and after the catalyst changes their lives forever. I became uncomfortable with the fact that I'm headed to a peaceful island to document friendly people while these young men and women are headed to war. I immediately thought of my hot pink bag and wished my mind could change the color to something more subtle.
After checking my two bags (the camera bag alone weighs 55 pounds) I headed to the WiFi hotspot at the Internet cafe. I noticed a group of Asian soldiers, and thought it was weird that they were not mingling among the other soldiers, but didn't give it much thought. In the Internet cafe, a group of soldiers came in and spoke a language I did not recognize. On their sleeve I saw the Macedonia flag. Interesting.
This is a new experience for me, being on a military base. I don't know quite what to think about it. But I will be more perceptive now as to the different patches, if not uniforms.
I'm headed to the dining hall to see what they have and back to the terminal to wait for the plane. I depart at 2300 and arrive at 0700 according to my boarding pass. I never thought about the process of boarding a military flight, but it seems just like flying commercial, except that some people are boarding c-17. I wonder what I'll be flying on. Whatever it is, I doubt I will get a pillow and blanket.

TDx