Goodbye to all that

A Letter from Katie Botkin in Italy:

I’m lying on a bench watching everyone else crowd into the boarding line when I see a familiar figure, dressed in the olive jumpsuit of the Italian Navy-Coastguard, heading towards me, scanning the crowd. He hasn’t seen me yet. I sit up and wave.

“Botkin!” he says, and plops down next to me. I laugh.

“What are you doing here?” I ask “How did you get through?”

He lifts his I.D. card and says he can go just about anywhere in an Italian airport. “I just landed,” he adds.

“How was Naples?” I ask him. He nods. I eye the line; people are disappearing into the airplane, so I ask him to stand with me. He’s been waiting with me for all of five minutes, and I’m the last in line, when I hug him goodbye. I hate this part of these friendships I make when I travel. Although, sometimes, I do see people again when I least expect it, as evidenced by this very meeting.

And who knows? Maybe I haven’t seen the last of Alex yet.