As i enter the airport, i get instantly that special feeling: the excitement of the upcoming trip and the new things i am about to discover, the perspective of the heat wave, waiting for me as i am out of that airplane door, also the fact that i can use my credit card aimlessly on cosmetics – since i will only feel the pain next month; the books waiting to be read, taking my time, without having to stop because of any particular reason (like i might need sleep); observing the sea of people that will probably be in different hemispheres only after a few hours of flying; and i am trying to imagine their stories (i can tell you some of them have crazy stories, my imagination probably exagerates and i am sure none of them is an international smuggler).

Since this particular airport has been blow up once, i am having also some ideas regarding that event, not without some scenarios that might happen again. I don’t share those thoughts with my friends . However, the lightness is not chased away by possible explosions, i let my imagination easily explore some of the possibilities,  leaving my thoughts flying, while i walk slowly amid the strange mix of people.  I can see a typical family going in vacation, wearing ridiculous outfits, like being in vacation allows you to forget any rules of decency or common sense (ok, I get your point but still, transparent Spandex should be forbidden by law). There is also the typical lone traveler – the one that thinks he/she invented this trend, the typical trendsetter, the hipster, the group of friends filled with the excitement of their upcoming adventure, the old couple holding hands while they watch with melancholia the noisy groups of teenagers and not lastly, the smell. Today the airport smells like a giant toilet, for some reason. It’s better not to know why anyway.

Of course, because of my passport I learn that I might encounter some issues at my arrival in Mexico. Yes, that should be my destination, more precisely: Cancun. And, since I travel light, they advise that in order to be regarded as a real tourist, I should have at least a 20 kg luggage (mine is only 7). Wait, what?

Anyway, short story, they wish me luck and let’s hope that Mexicans will not think of me that I am a gypsy Romanian instead of just a plain Romanian.

So I sit next to a Mexican couple that started to watch a Tom Cruise movie in tandem, so they were literally laughing together at the jokes (how cute is that? Not.) Ok, we start to talk, i get to know the story of their life: they went to a trip to Europe, she’s pregnant, they are from Monterey, etc etc but finally they are really nice. It’s true.

I am denied to move next to my friends – sitting somewhere in the back because something. So I am sitting here, and my screen is not working. At least I have two books. I get annoyed with Paterson’s “12 rules for life” because he blames Eve that Adam tried the apple. Something.

Ten (long) hours later, we arrive in Cancun. Badaboom! 30 degrees Celsius.


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