When I was 5, I went on my first flight. But contrary to most children, it was a solo flight. My dad wanted me to visit our family living abroad for summer break.

Unfortunately, due to work commitments, he couldn’t come with me. So he booked a solo flight for me with the hope that, the following year, we would be able to travel together. As a child, I was fairly curious and fearless. I was so eager to travel and discover new countries and cultures.

On the day of my flight, he drove me to the airport. When he parked his car, I almost ran away to the departure gates, barely thinking about him. A flight attendant waved her hand at me and led me to security.

Then, she gave me a colorful pouch with my name on it. I had the chance to board early and see what the empty plane looked like before everyone else. The flight attendant also gave me snacks, colored pens and a drawing book to keep me occupied. When the big plane took off, I leaned over to my window and looked atthe airport and the city, so small from where we were, like a bunch of legos.

It was my first time in the sky. I was so excited that I forgot to be scared.

A new adventure awaited.