East Coast Travelogue №1: Kicking Off the Voyage with a Jewish Wedding

Not a literal Jewish wedding, but the metaphor for one given the mishaps that opened this long journey.

One of the worst airports in the world, photographed by Eric Salard for Wikimedia Commons

As promised, this is the first entry in the travelogue outlining my brief return to the homeland and vacation in Ireland. And it begins where many long journeys begin: at the airport. LAX, to be exact.

Now, I’ve been a frequent traveler on the video games conference circuit for almost a whole decade. I could write the ZAGAT guide on major and regional airports of America. (Hear that, travel mags looking for a single female Millennial business traveler who can grab attention?)

And I can duly say that LAX is the Gitmo of American airports.

I stand by those words. Hands down, traveling in or out of LAX is simply one of the most excruciatingly soul-draining experiences one could possibly have when getting ready to endure a couple hours in a tin can disease vector (or preparing to yeet oneself from one).

Before native Angelenos shake their heads and tell my East Coast transplant ass to fly out of Burbank instead: I KNOW BOB HOPE AIRPORT EXISTS, CHAD. I flew in and out of there a couple times, including for the final E3 in 2019. You don’t sit on the 101 waiting…