Car parked, you have arrived! An airport to a new final destination. Jump out, grab your bags and as the overwhelming sense of excitement begins to flow, rush in towards security. Show your ticket and passport and you're off embarking on a new adventure with no idea where it will take you and what you will learn. Bags scanned, shoes shoved back on, you find yourself wandering through a terminal towards a gate, your gateway to a new frontier. The shops and smells surrounding you remind you of where you just were and you can't help but wonder what the next jet-way will bring.
To travel is to breathe. Nowhere do I feel a greater rush than in an airport. Each airport has its own quirks and nuances. The shops, security, baggage trolleys and even the check in procedure varies with each individual nation, but the result is the same.
I am 25 years old and am incredibly lucky to have a golden ticket to satisfy my addiction: Travel. As ex-pats in the fabulous U.S of A. we needed a way to travel home to the UK to visit our family. My mother, being the problem solving go-getter that she is, managed to snag a job with a fabulous airline. Little did she know at the time that this would lead to my brother's eventual loathing of air-travel and my insatiable appetite for adventure. 15 years, over 150 international flights and 27 countries later the withdrawal sets in within a matter of weeks and the itch to explore overwhelms me until my feet touchdown in an airport.
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