San José, Costa Rica

The airport is safety, a fortress of first-world standards with its armory of air conditioners and snack food. I emerge from the plane into Costa Rica and have anticipated the feeling of false security such places cultivate. Instead of falling pray to this I stride quickly past and grab my bags.

Here amongst the white washed pillars and strolling police I do not linger but, head instead towards the sliding glass door that mentally marks the point of no return and the start of an adventure. I step through the exit and though the heat hits me like a wave I, as a metaphorical surfer rise above and over the mixture of warmth and culture shock.

Now a day later I am adapted, happy in the role I feel most comfortable. Though at times a student and happy family member I feel most alive at other times and places far removed from normality. When I stand on a corner, in a strange city with a backpack hanging off my shoulders nothing seems to go wrong and I feel like a prince exploring his kingdom.