The uncomfortable seat was almost intolerable to sit on for hours, and it had already been one, not including the previous four that we had suffered thorough traveling from the SEA-TAC airport in Washington to the airport in Chicago, Illinois. Our final destination was Florida. It will be the furthest place I have ever been from home.
“Are we almost there yet?” I asked, turning towards my mother.
“Almost. We have about one more hour,” she replied, her long chocolate hair bouncing. You could tell she was really agitated with the unpleasant seating accommodations by the look in her green eyes that bored into the clock.
Great, I thought, another hour of torture.
The hour passed by, and the pilot made an announcement on the intercom.
“We will be landing in about five minutes. Please power down all electronics and have a nice visit in Florida.”I lost track of what the pilot was continuing to say about the weather and turned towards the window. I could see the crisp, tropical water and the gorgeous palm trees.
The plane landed with an increase of speed and a large thud as it hit the tarmac, throwing me forward in my seat. My family and I scrambled out of the plane into the cool, air-conditioned chaos known as the airport. I followed my mom as she expertly lead my grandparents and me to the baggage claim. All around me were noises and smells that I had never experienced before.

As we waited for the carousel to start throwing up peoples bags like a vending machine would so to a bottle of soda, I started tapping my foot impatiently.
“Mom, why does it take so long to get our bags? We’ve been waiting here for forever.” I was getting more impatient by the minute. I was just about to complain again when my pink, striped, polka dotted bad came around the corner. I lunged; grabbing the leather handle, I flung the heavy bag out onto the linoleum floor. Excited I turned towards my mom. She had just grabbed her bag and was waiting to get my grandparents’ luggage. After about ten minutes of annoying screaming from kids and the carousel moving slower than a snail, we grabbed all of our bags and headed towards the sliding, retractable doors. As they slid open swiftly, I could feel the hot mustiness leaving its heat on my face. It was warm, but not unbearable, and it was my first experience in Florida.