Galapagos
We're waiting to board our flight to Buenos Aires, after a full day of exploring both the Brazilian and Argentinian sides of Iguazu Falls. The setting sun is gleaming off the jet bridge and our parents are chattering a few rows behind us at the gate.
Neither of us had much idea what to expect from the Galapagos. We crammed a couple of episodes of a BBC documentary about the islands when we woke up, still terribly jet-lagged, at three in the morning before heading to the Quito airport en route to San Cristobal.
There was something special about seeing the abstract factoids from the show—the birds that dive-bomb into the ocean like precision missiles, the lizards that periodically sneeze saltwater, the giant tortoises that took ten sailors to lift—come to life in front of us each day. It was also the first time in years that either of us spent a week living, eating, and exploring with a group of new people. We learned about all sorts of ways of life this week, both on the islands and in the dining room of our ship.