Despair. Agony. Devastation. Mind numbing depression. We boarded the plane in São Paulo expecting the worst.
We quizzed our veteran overland friends on the homecoming and transition process. The general consensus was bleak. We just spent 15 months living out our wildest dream and the hangover from that sustained high was sure to be severe.
For the last three years our mission, mantra, purpose could be summed up in five letters: PAN AM. Once you board that plane, it’s all over.
We left a lot of ourselves out there on the road less traveled. Our egos and identities would be in dire need of substance. Like the first days on the PanAm we would be green and vulnerable.
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