Eating on Flights
Traveling used to be fun. Traveling used to be exciting. I'm talking about the process of actually traveling. Not the destination. The traveling to the destination.I have turned the corner. Traveling is not fun anymore. It's not exciting.
Well, not exciting in the way it should be.
Now, the excitement consists of figuring out how and where and when I am going to be able to find safe gluten-free food while traveling.
Don't even get me started on security and the TSA.
On a not-so-recent-now trip from west coast to east coast, I had three flights in one day. Certainly not my first choice, but it was what I was able to get.
The first leg was from one end of California to the other. Small regional jet. Pseudo beverage service, no food.
Well, I guess it makes that flight gluten-free. Ahem.
My second flight was the big one. From one end of the country to the other. I had hoped that I would be able to find some gluten-free food before boarding this long flight.
My first flight landed at LAX, and while we taxied--seemingly from one side of LA county to the other--I used my phone to find my next departure gate.
Located in a separate terminal from that of my arrival. And with only a short amount of time to get there.
I pulled up a map of the terminals. I was going to have to hurry to get from my arrival gate to my departure gate. And look for gluten-free food along the way that I could grab and go. And hurry. And not get stuck waiting in line. And move quickly.
Good luck to me.