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Prologue
JUNE 7, 2018
FRANKFURT AIRPORT, GERMANY
Condor Flight 2455 touches the tarmac at 12:45 p.m., Central European Summer Time. The abrupt deceleration causes the aircraft to shutter violently, mimicking the turbulence of my own anticipatory state. Though vibrations smooth as we taxi across the landing strip, my heart thrums faster. After ten hours in the air—and several months of planning—I’ve finally arrived in Frankfurt, Germany.
A canned message issued in both German and English reminds passengers to remain seated; cellular devices may now be used. I flex my legs, eager to move. To get started in this new chapter of my life. A much anticipated ding indicates we can unfasten our seatbelts and collect overhead bags. On the tarmac, a shuttle waits to transport us to the main terminal. I twist my head back toward the plane as we file onto the bus, keen to spot my baggage—in particular, my bicycle box. For a second, my thoughts whirl in panic as I imagine scenarios preventing my precious cargo from following me across the Atlantic. Luckily, I spy it—a rectangular cardboard box scrawled with the word Fragile in Sharpie marker—my anxiety instantly replaced by glee.