In the past 7 years, I have flown exactly 792,571 miles, or 1,275,519 km for you metric folks. East Coast, West Coast, Canada, Mexico…no sweat. Eastern Europe, Western Europe…Southeast Asia, the Far East…even the Middle East.  No problem.

Last Friday was the first time I’ve ever been nervous upon arrival.  Into Rio de Janeiro.

A beautiful Initial Descent into Rio…

I guess that’s what happens when your only exposure to a place, besides a few nice pictures you saw online, are movies like Cidade de Deus (City of God) or Ônibus 174 (Bus 174). If you’ve seen either, you can understand. Through dramatically different series of events, each depicts a gruesome portrait of fear and violence that extreme poverty, particularly contrasted with great wealth, can nurture. Do a bit more research, and you learn about the Intercontinental Hotel that 10 drug dealers, engaged in a shootout with a rival gang, took hostage last September. Or the bullets that are known to occasionally pop across the main highway linking Galeao Airport to the city, dodging (hopefully) public buses and taxicabs full of tourists (prompting the city to, ever so gracefully, install walls painted with nice murals to keep the ‘noise’ out).

Landing at Galeão International Airport

Fresh on arrival at GIG Airport

So naturally, when I caught the Real Autobus in the direction of Santos Dumont, I had to use every ounce of discipline I had to keep my camera in the pocket, fearing getting robbed, jumped, mugged, or worse. But then a funny thing happened. As we drove past Complexo de Alemão (favela), then Mal Jardim (favela), past São Cristóvão and down Av. Presidente Vargas through downtown, I started to give into the temptation.

Snap.

Snap, snap.

Snap, snap, snap…before we even arrived to Santos Dumont (from where I’d catch a taxi), I had already captured 50-some (albeit bad) images. I’m not sure exactly what it was, but it only took about 15 minutes, on a public bus no less, to find my comfort zone. I wasn’t afraid of Rio anymore.

One of the more striking buildings I passed into Rio…

My ID:  7:10am, Friday, 28 November 2008:  Copenhagen Kastrup International Airport

Scandinavian Airlines System flight SK926 from Washington-Dulles

My Initial Descent into Scandinavia was one of the most spontaneous travel moments I’ve ever experienced. With a four-day break from work, I decided the day before the holiday that I would fly to Copenhagen. I had done no advanced planning, no research…nothing. I literally just packed a weekend bag, put on my winter jacket, and stepped onto the SAS plane. I didn’t know where I would stay or what I would do, but as my flight was a red eye and I would be landing in the morning, I figured I would have a day to figure it out.

Before we landed, some nice Danish people I had met on board had given me directions to Vesterport, near Copenhagen’s central station. They even had made a few hotel recommendations. While my first few choices were not available without notice, I eventually found a temporary home, dropped my bag, and set out to explore the city, amazed that I could pretty much cover it on foot.

My ID:  3:53pm, Wednesday, 21 January 2004:  Vancouver International Airport

Alaska Airlines flight AS673 from Los Angeles

My Initial Descent into Canada came on approach into Vancouver International Airport on a cold, gray January afternoon. Living in California at the time, I decided I wanted to see the city I had heard so much about. So I hopped on the plane and took in the beauty for the entire 3-hour journey up the coast. I was treated to a view of California’s Yosemite National Park, the downtown Seattle skyline, and excited for the bigger treat I had awaiting me upon landing.

On final approach into YVR

Just walking down the corridor at YVR to the immigration queue, I knew so much about the culture and heritage of British Columbia. From Native American Indian artifact displays to mock lakes and trees to recorded nature sounds coming from the walls surrounding me, no detail was left untouched. While the immigration officers themselves were a bit stuffy, I found everyone else I encountered during my first 4-day stay to be exactly as I had expected: warm, polite, friendly and welcoming. There have been few cities I have visited where I felt immediately at home, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that this was one of them.

Welcoming you into YVR

Yet another display to remind you where you are

A Native American Indian canoe, complete with bird noises

My ID:  7:40pm, Saturday, 11 August 2007:  Doha International Airport

Qatar Airways flight QR52 from Washington-Dulles

My Initial Descent into the Middle East came by way of Doha, Qatar. Sent by my employer of the time for a business meeting, I wasn’t really sure what to expect on the other end of my 14-hour flight. I knew I was excited—a kind of excitement I had not felt since my Initial Descent into Asia a few years earlier. The feeling of embarking on a new adventure in a place completely opposite to everything familiar to me.

Qatar landscape

I remember following the course of the flight on my in-seat map, and noticing (as it would turn out later, in both directions) that we avoided flying directly over Iraq. I wondered if it was still some fallout of the political confrontation started by the United States. I remember looking down as we descended below the clouds and seeing nothing but yellow sand, stretching in every direction into eternity. I remember popping over a glowing sea of blue as we approached Doha, and seeing half-constructed buildings sprouting out of the desert like pine trees against the edge of the water below. And then I remember being on the ground.

The Doha skyline against the water

Doha skyscrapers sprouting like new trees

Funneling out of a massive, state-of-the-art 777, into a little bus, it felt like the airplane I had just flown on came from the future and the airport I was now walking into came from the past (this is very soon to change, as New Doha International Airport nears completion). I began to sweat immediately upon feeling the August desert heat (my boss had warned me about this), and followed the queue into a glowing white immigration hall. After clearing customs and collecting my duffel bag, I will never forget walking around the corner into the Arrivals hall and being met with a wall of men—all men—all dressed exactly the same. The men were different colors—some very light, some very dark, and some in the middle—but all were dressed in white robes and sandals, with headdresses that were either white or red and white. If I didn’t know I was in a different world from the view out the window upon landing, I definitely knew I was now.

Qatar Airways 777-300ER

My ID:  3:32pm, Friday, 23 January 2009:  O.R. Tambo International Airport (Johannesburg)

South African Airways flight SA208 from Washington-Dulles

Not for the faint of heart (or tall people in economy class)

Fresh off a 19-hour journey from Washington, DC, my first thought upon entering the terminal building at Tambo Airport was: “Shit, I can’t believe I left that in the overhead.”  As usual with me, I left something in the overhead bin, only realizing it after I had deplaned.  This time, it was something of sentimental value to me—my favorite knit hat.  (See below).  With a standby staff ticket, I could have transferred immediately over to Johannesburg’s domestic terminal for my the 7:30pm flight to Cape Town.  Instead, I gave up my seat on that flight and took my chances on a later one, trying in vain to get a hold of the crew, lost and found, and ground service staff of South African Airways to see if there was any way to reclaim the had I had worn every winter day for about 5 years.  I didn’t expect South Africa to be the most organized of countries to assist with such a loss, and when the first customer service agent laughed at my inquiry as to where the cleaning crew would turn it in, I knew I was really in South Africa J…Fortunately, it was just a hat.  I couldn’t wait to lay eyes on Cape Town, and my imagination ran away with the thought of how many lions, tigers and hippos my path would cross at 35,000 feet along the way…

Greeting everyone at the O.R. Tambo baggage claim

The hat I sadly lost in JNB in one of its better days

My ID:  3:28pm, Monday, 29 December 2008:  Beijing Capital International Airport           

Dragonair flight KA908 from Hong Kong

I had been to Hong Kong before, so my Initial Descent into China wasn’t completely foreign to me. But  yet while Hong Kong has a very international, Western feel, I expected Beijing to be much different. I remember being nervous upon walking to the immigration queue. In hindsight, the only reason was because of the Chinese government’s strict reputation and the hassle I had to go through to obtain my one-year, multiple-entry visa from the USA.

Minutes after arriving in Beijing, I realized that this country was serious about its modernization plan (the airport was immaculate), and that everything I had heard about the Olympics earlier in the year—from the facilities to the technology—was accurate. It was also a much more diverse city than I expected, with expats living here from all around the world. This was an example of how many preconceptions I had gathered, now I had to let them go to enjoy this place to the fullest.

My ID:  8:21am, Saturday, 03 October 2009:  Brisbane International Airport

Etihad Airways flight EY470 from Singapore

With sunshine reflecting off of royal blue Moreton Bay below, my Initial Descent into Australia was as beautiful and lush as I had expected it to be. Everything I had heard about this country was about its natural, physical beauty, and based on this first foray, I was not disappointed.

Customs, on the other hand, was a different story. Besides being just a few customs agents sitting in a room full of desks, leaving for an impossible queue, the authorities seemed intent on checking half of the bags coming through the hall. I had always thought Australians to be laid back and easygoing, which is perhaps why I didn’t expect the customs process to be more of a hassle than some of the US airports I’m used to, including New York City’s JFK or Los Angeles International. But that’s what I was dealing with, and I would find out within the next few days that my expectation of laid back and easygoing wasn’t really accurate even beyond the confines of a stuffy immigration hall.

Nevertheless, with a bright sun pasted atop a clear blue sky, I was happy to be in the Land Down Under for the first time!

MyID:  11:52pm, Monday, 29 August 2005:  Bangkok Don Mueang International Airport

Cathay Pacific flight CX709 from Hong Kong

As I embarked upon my Initial Descent into Thailand, I knew little else besides the fact that everything was going to be cheap. I just didn’t realize how cheap. When I landed at Don Mueang Airport (which was “BKK” before Suvarnabhumi Palace opened up a few in 2006), I was surprised at the ease of which I found my bus (which cost me all of $1.50 into the town), and of course the golf course that lied between the runways (literally—I couldn’t believe it still existed in the post-911 days).

Upon checking into my $20-a-night hotel, I realized that I had gotten exactly what I had paid for—a cheap hotel. But when I walked down the street to the Holiday Inn, which itself was still less than $100 a night—and five star—I figured I’d do it better the next time I came.

Those trees in the middle really are a golf course!

MyID: 8:49am, Sunday, April 1, 2012: Buenos Aires-Ezeiza International Airport

United Airlines flight UA847 from Washington-Dulles

Getting ready for my first visit to Argentina, I remember reading a lot about the country’s problems with corruption (although it is hardly alone there), and just giving myself the typical abroad-for-the-first-time pep talk about watching my back, making sure I looked like I knew what I was doing, where I was going, etc.

Looking down into the brown waters of Rio de la Plata

When we began our Initial Descent into Ezeiza, I remember being surprised at what I saw out the window below, despite not having any preconception about what to expect in terms of physical landscape. Looking at the Rio de la Plata glistening below, I did not see what looked like a sea at all, but rather something that resembled a mud puddle. It was completely brown, as far as I could see. It turns out that it is just sediments that are carried into the body of water by local rivers–not pollution–but it is definitely eye-catching to see how it appears in the image below.

In this NASA satellite photo, you can see how the Rio de la Plata appears brown from sediments beginning around Montevideo, Uruguay (the large city visible left of the inlet), up through Buenos Aires (the larger city towards the bottom right).

Having gathered myself from the sight of the brown water, as we approached land I could see the outskirts of the city, then a vast plain of green and brown farmland rolling onto the horizon, and minutes later I was outside in the Autumn sun looking for Bus 86 to whisk me away to the city.

My ID:  7:46am, Monday, 03 June 2002:  Schiphol Airport

EasyJet flight EZY862 from Edinburgh

The first thing I noticed as my EasyJet flight from Edinburgh began its approach into Schiphol Airport was the sheer mass of the Port of Rotterdam, one of the world’s biggest and busiest container ports.  Having always been interested in transportation and logistics, I imagined where each of the containers below—just orange and blue specks—had been a few weeks earlier and would be in another few weeks.  A few minutes later I was walking through cavernous Schiphol trying to figure out how to get to Amsterdam, where I would first set foot around 8:30 on a lazy Tuesday morning.

After arriving at Centraal Station, I made a beeline for the most fascinating and surreal target on my list—the Red Light District!  I remember being shocked that some of the girls were “open for business” at all, being about the least social time of the entire week.  I didn’t have the best feeling, based primarily on my romantically idealized preconceived notions heading in, and I made haste to see target No. 2—Anne Frank’s House.