Brisk air filled the jet way, the tropics were nowhere to be found. It seemed the northeast’s brutal spring was making its last stand. A two mile line awaited me as I entered the customs terminal, and what felt like an eternity elapsed as I listened to the less than compassionate line clerks squawk at cellphone usage like middle school teachers. Eventually, I was called to a booth, my internal self shamed for not having acquired Global Entry before my departure. An angsty customs agent grumbled at me as he scanned my passport and shooed me away as though my arrival was an unexpected inconvenience. Newark International hadn’t changed a bit.
Tomorrow I set off at 8am for Lima, Peru! It feels pretty wild to be leaving, and as is tradition, I left a bit too much to the last minute. But everything is all set now and it's time so ship off. Abi joins me Wednesday morning and we embark on this journey. So far I know one thing for sure: My Spanish can only get better from here.