Coming back from California was fun. We had a delayed flight that rerouted us to fly into Baton Rouge. There was turbulence. Enough to scare me a bit. My row mate showed me where the barf bag was because I looked "pale"
Until that part in the flight, I thought I was doing okay. I guess not. I vividly remember how small the airport was. I remember being confused why we had to walk outside and not in " the tube" to get in the airport. The most vivid detail I remember ? The HOT HUMID AIR THAT HIT ME IN THE FACE WHEN I STEPPED OFF THAT PLANE and the BIG POOFY HAIR THAT WAS A RESULT. It was terrible. The air felt so thick. I wanted to get back on that plane and go back to California. It was cooler. Bigger. More exciting. And I like my hair better! I don't remember the ride home. I do remember the excitement filling me to tell my grandmother every detail about the trip. She was ready for me-- waiting to hear all about it. I shared every detail. From the feeling of panic in the airport before leaving to the new friends I made that were Jewish and had traveled to Africa. She just listened. Like she always did. Asked a few questions. Smiled at my excitement. And then she said " did you know that my family is from the Canary Islands?" That was the moment that changed my direction in life. I was hooked. I needed to travel. I needed to experience the world. I needed to learn about other people, cultures and ways of life. I was 14 years old and had no idea that my own children would share the same excitement about the world. All because I chose the plane ticket-- I can share the world's playground with them. In the end, it's not about the money, the status, or the fame. It's about the experiences we have and the people we share them with. It's about the memories that we create and the impact that we make on the world around us. So go out there, choose your adventure, and make it count. Yours in flight Brandi
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The first full day we had the day to spend in Disney.
You would have thought I was excited? I am sure I was. I mean I know I was. But, I don't remember much other than not being efficient with our time -- so we didn't get to see too much while we were there. What I do remember? The friends I made. The guy from Napoleonville, Louisiana. The girl from Long Island. Who was Jewish. The teacher who spoke English, French & German. My roommate who had traveled to Africa. I remember being excited that I knew someone who was Jewish. Everyone I knew was Catholic. There were definitely no Jewish people near me back home. Or at least I wasn't aware of any if there were any. I remember sitting up til midnight in the lobby of the hotel asking as many questions as I could about where they were from, what it was like-- what Jewish people believed in--- what it was like being trilingual--- and how did you learn those languages? What was Africa like? Was it safe? Did you see a lion? Giraffe? I remember walking down the street walking into our tourist trap shopping store I could find-- and being excited to find those cheesy t-shirts. I mean, I by this point in my life, the furthest I had been was to the Southwest Louisiana--- how cool was it to be a tourist in a big city? I am sure they thought I was weird--- but I didn't care. I chose the plane ticket and I was making the most of my time there. Up next: Sharing all the stories I came back with me about California and the conversation with my grandmother that set my love for the world on fire. Lovely traveler Brandi |
BRANDIAccountant-turned-travel planner, I share all things travel here! Archives
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