(In 2024, I planned and executed a round-the-world adventure, spanning all six occupied continents in about a month. This is Chapter 2 in a blow-by-blow retelling of how it all came together, and how it all went.)

NOVEMBER 8 - RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA, USA

MILES TRAVELED: 0

As anyone who has traveled with me will tell you, I'm a little anal-retentive when it comes to getting to an airport before a flight. I don't mind sitting at the gate for two, three, four hours... as long as I get through security and am there to board the flight when my group is called. Call it what you will, but it works for me.

So, for the first flight of an epic trip, an 8 a.m. flight from Raleigh to Miami, I board the hotel shuttle at 5. No worries there, everything goes well and we're off, and I'm in an exit row. One down, two to go. The second flight, between Miami and Bogota also goes well, although in a much more cramped seat than the first. Now I'm in for a long, five hour layover.

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Let me tell you something about the Bogota airport. It's a hot mess. Probably about half the size it needs to be for the amount of people who seem to be in it at any given moment. But whatever. I find a place to grab a dinner (a gigantic hamburger) and a couple beers, and then settle in wherever I can find a seat to wait for my flight.

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Finally, we get going a little late, and the agent makes me gate check my carryon, which pisses me off because others are dragging much bigger bags onboard, but whatever. It's the last flight of the day, and only a one-hour one at that.

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But about 15 minutes in, the Captain makes an announcement: the weather in Pereira is bad, and we may not be able to fly into that airport, but we still head in that direction. 15 minutes later, the dreaded announcement: they've closed the Pereira airport due to flooding.

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Ill-fated flight 6131 is headed back to Bogota.

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The airline reassures us that we will all be re-booked onto a flight in the morning, but that we will have to get that done with at the ticket counter in Bogota. Keep in mind that it is now 11 p.m. (Colombia is in the same time zone as the Eastern US), and I have now been up for about 19 hours. And because of that asshole agent who made me check my carryon, I can't get in line at the ticket counter until I claim my bag on the carousel.

OK. Now I'm tired, I'm grumpy, and I'm waaaaaaaaaaay in the back of the line for rebooking. But I'm not nearly as grumpy as some lady in front of me, who is yelling very, very loudly at the gate agent in Spanish.

Man, I wish I understood what she was saying. People are cheering her, so it must be good.

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Anyway, I finally get up to the ticket counter and get rebooked for the morning. But a hotel room? Nope. Apparently a lot of flights out of Bogota got turned around because of weather (a bit of trivia here: Colombia is apparently the rainiest country in the world) and all the nearby hotels are filled. She tells me that maybe I can talk my way into an airport lounge, and that hey, maybe I'll get a $200 credit from the airline for the inconvenience.

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Whoop-de-do. At this point, I just want a bed. Any bed.

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So, I wander around the airport a bit, looking for this mysterious airport lounge that may take mercy on a poor tired traveler like myself.

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I never did find it. Instead, I found Sleep Oasis.

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It is basically an in-airport version of the capsule hotels ("coffins with wifi") that are popular in places like Japan and Korea. But instead of renting by the night, they rent by the hour.

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Just like all the hotels near the airport, they are full. But since they rent by the hour, they do expect openings. At 2. Or 3. Or whenever.

So I sit outside the door and wait. And wait. And wait.

Finally, at about 2:30 a.m., a spot opens. I book five hours, and gladly hop inside. And sleep.

Or at least I think I slept. It wasn't the most comfortable bed ever, as the mattress and pillow were covered in plastic. Like the plastic parents buy for kids that wet the bed. And the pillow was somehow attached to the wall, so my preferred method of side sleeping involved a bit of a contortionist act.

But it was better than an airport floor, so after nearly 24 hours of being awake, I'll take it.

Day one of this round-the-world adventure, and I never saw the outside of an airport.

And I'm hoping this isn't some sort of an omen.