Night in the Airport

Studly Doright and I traveled to Amarillo, Texas, on Tuesday to spend Thanksgiving with his mom and his siblings in the Texas panhandle. We elected to fly out of Orlando, a four hour drive from Doright Manor, because every other option was outrageously expensive.

I’d always wanted to stay at the Hyatt Regency inside the Orlando airport and with a 6:55 a.m. flight, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do just that. I made the suggestion to Studly, and he thought it was a great idea. We could sleep a little bit later, and walk a mere 100 yards from our room to the airlines’ check-in kiosk.

There was an element of excitement to staying inside the airport overnight. I’d read the book, From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, when I was a kid, and this experience reminded me of how the characters hid in bathroom stalls inside a museum, emerging only after the museum had closed for the night. The characters found places to sleep among the exhibits and took baths in the fountain. For some reason Studly wouldn’t let me do either of those things.

There were a few folks who were stranded due to delayed flights and were sprawled out on chairs and benches in vain attempts to catch a few zzzzz’s, but for the most part we had the terminal to ourselves.

(This guy encased in the plexiglass cubicle above isn’t real. At least we never caught him moving.)

Our room was comfortable and amazingly quiet nestled as it is inside one of the busiest airports in the country. I’d definitely stay at the Hyatt at the Orlando International Airport on a future trip. Maybe Studly will indulge my desire to bathe in a fountain. Or not.

(I’m writing this late on Tuesday night and I’m pooped! We got up at 4:40 a.m. eastern time to check in for our flight, and I’m about to go to bed at 8:30 central. Sorry for any poor grammar and nonsensical sentences. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.)

Peace, people!