26 Hours of Travel

We woke up early around 4 a.m., Friday morning in our Indiana farmhouse. We threw on our most comfortable clothing and packed our last-minute essentials.

My mom picked us up and drove us the hour to Indianapolis. It was still dark as the planes landed and took off, engines roaring.

We unloaded the car filled to the brim with all our luggage, hugged goodbyes, and entered the airport.

Travis and I checked our luggage — two bags each. We tried to change our tickets so we could sit together, but there were no more seats available next to each other.

We quickly grabbed breakfast — Qdoba for him and Chic-Fil-A for me — right after I bought two packs of gum.

We waited in the long line of security and then took off our shoes and emptied our laptop of its bag. I’ve become a pro at getting through security quickly. Travis — not so much.

When we boarded our plane, Travis asked to switch seats in hopes of sitting together but no such luck. The woman next to me was separated from her husband too, and after a few minutes of scheming we eventually gave up trying to work it out so we could both sit with our men.

Around five hours.

That’s how long our first flight was. I could see Travis from my seat, and he’d turn around and wink at me, blow kisses, or try to charade that there were pretty mountains outside of his window. I slept and read until we finally landed in San Francisco.

We didn’t have much time to get to our new gate for our next flight. We went to the bathroom, grabbed some sushi, and waited at the counter for someone to hopefully change our seats so we could sit together.

We were happily surprised when they were able to give us seats next to each other. We boarded our 747 and found our seats next to a Korean man who was already asleep. We ate a meal and watched a movie on my phone, sharing headphones. We knew we needed to sleep, and the flight felt like it was going so very slow. So we both took some sleeping medication. Travis dozed off quickly, and I struggled with restless legs.

After several hours of sleep, we both awoke for another meal.

Twelve and a half hours later, our large plane, with 90% of its seats filled with Koreans, landed in Seoul. We exited the plane and walked through a large airport until we arrived at customs.

The memories came flooding back.

Just 8 months before I had walked through these halls alone, anxiously anticipating having Travis’ arms around me again. This time, though, he was with me as we went through customs, found our baggage, and went through the big doors.

On the other side of the large sliding doors, crowds await with signs and hugs for their awaited loved ones. Eight months before I had walked through those doors searching for Travis’ eyes to meet mine. This time, my love was already next to me.

We pulled along our suitcases — two each plus our carry on bags strapped across our shoulders — as Korean men asked in accented English, “Taxi?” We made our way through the crowds to the other side of the airport and waited in line to buy our train tickets.

Two tickets for the KTX (Korean Train Express). We stopped at a coffee shop while we waited for our train. We ordered a mango juice, drank it with two straws as the Koreans do. I tried to stay awake, but my eyelids were getting so heavy. We lugged our bags down to the train and boarded. Finding our seats, we got comfortable.

Three hours later, we awoke to the sound of an announcement.

“Dongdaegu Station” — our stop.

We got off the train as a man helped me pull my heavy bag off the train so he could board. “Thank you,” I said, realizing he didn’t speak English and I was no longer in America. “Gamsahabnida,” I corrected myself.

We walked through the train station, still blurry eyed and completely ready to ditch our heavy bags and just rest. We walked outside into the pouring rain — cold rain — to the ATM so Travis could get won (Korean currency). Walking through the rain, we headed to the area where you can find taxis. However, construction had been completed and suddenly everything we recognized looked different. We decided to just start walking, trying to head in the direction we thought might be the street.

About 10 minutes later, we arrived at the street with the taxis. Travis loaded the car and we got in, grateful to be out of the rain. Only certain taxis are allowed on the Army base, and this was not one of them. When the taxi arrived, he had to drop us off at the gate.

Within the small gate, we waited as we called another taxi to take us to Travis’ apartment. We waited around 30 minutes, calling the taxi service twice. But with pouring rain on a Saturday night, not a single taxi was available.

There was no way we were carrying our six (very) heavy bags through the pouring rain across the post and up a very large hill after we had already spent more than 25 hours traveling. We were both cold, wet, and completely exhausted.

Eventually, Travis decided to go get his car himself while I waited at the gate with all our bags. He walked/ran the 10 minutes to his car only to realize his car keys were still in his apartment. There are more than 50 stairs to get up to his apartment as this is a very mountainous area. He ran the steps up to his apartment, and he broke into his own room through a window. He found his keys and ran all the way back.

Thankfully, his car started. His car is basically on its last leg and I was very worried it wouldn’t start when we needed it most. Old Blue came through for us, though, and Travis picked me up at the gate a few minutes later.

We finally made it “home” with all our luggage — soaked in raindrops and relief.

And that’s how we got to South Korea …