In a few minutes Rachael and I are going to get back on a plane and fly to San Francisco. From there, on to Frankfurt, then a couple hours for a layover, and then Doha. Twenty hours in the air, plus a handful on the ground, and we'll be home.
Rather than attempt a sweeping, generalized summary of our summer, I want to share a thought I had when we were driving to the airport this morning, packed full with suitcases and backpacks and emotion:
We're really lucky. Many people don't get to travel at any point in their lives, let alone when they're young, and many people don't get to have a decent job, let alone a fulfilling one. Not everyone gets time off, or the ability to take advantage of it.
It's impossible to forget about these things when people ask us about Doha, or traveling, or coming home. What is sometimes easy to forget about, I'm sorry to say, is that we're able to do this because of all of the people around us who've made it possible. Employers for offering us a job, friends for letting us stay with them and making the time for us. But most importantly, Rachael and I are surrounded by people, both friends and family, who've encouraged us to go off on our adventures, who've shown that they love us just the same, even though they have to say goodbye.