I wake to a voice on the overhead announcing first “service has ended” followed by “flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing”.    

Shit! I missed the coffee.  But, on the bright side, I had managed to sleep straight through the overnight flight, and we were just 27 minutes from landing. 

The last thing I remember is pushing a button to recline my seat all the way into a bed, snuggling up with a comfy blanket, and pulling my eye mask down.   

Magical.  

By the time our wheels had touched down, I was somewhere between wide awake and dreaming, still processing the fact that I had just arrived on a brand new continent, in a brand new country, and wondering what the next leg of my journey might bring.  

After accidentally heading the wrong way in the airport, I ran into a fellow American who had done the same and so of course, Molly and I became fast friends and brief travel buddies.  Thanks to the help of several people along the way, we made our way to baggage claim to grab our bags and head to customs before rechecking them once more. 

If it wasn’t for the people watching, baggage claim would be a type of hell on Earth to me. Two days, two weeks, it doesn’t matter. I’m a serial carry on only girl. For this trip though and the gear required, checking was my only option.

At baggage claim, there are the people who crowd at the front right along the edge of the baggage carousel, wide legs, shins pressed up against the metal, staking their territory and claiming the space.  Then, there are the latecomers that so rudely push their way right through the crowd to the front as if they are oblivious to the fact that the rest of us are there waiting too.  And then, there’s the group I fall into when forced to check a bag.  The group waiting off to the back and the side, listening to all of the frustrated and angry people, watching from afar with Eagle eyes for the first sight of their luggage before going in for the attack. 

As I stood there waiting to spy my bags, I met a family who had arrived to their final destination.  They had grown up in Lima and were coming back, all meeting there together, to celebrate their Moms 100th birthday on Thursday. I found myself imagining their Mom, vibrant and full of life, dancing at her party as her family celebrated her and her beautiful life. I thought of my great-grandmother and how our family had driven to NJ to celebrate her 100th birthday many years ago.  I thought about my own Mom, the rock of our family, and the party we will hopefully have for her 100th too. And then, I thought about my own life and the possibility of living to 100 which pulled me out of la-la land and made me remember, nothing in this life is guaranteed. Nothing is permanent. 100 years are not promised.  Every day that passes, we get closer to dying.  

The mind is a funny thing right?  Each thought triggering the next and the next until you wake up and find yourself standing at baggage claim pondering life and death. 

But enough about that for now… 

Current status…Bags claimed. Customs passed. Luggage rechecked. And most importantly, LARGE black coffee in hand. 

Hello Peru! I am here, arms and heart open wide.  I am ready.  Ready to live.  Ready to explore.  Ready to celebrate THIS day, right here and now. 

One more flight until I touch down in Cusco. 

Let’s go!