The first breath after my return to Sydney felt as relieving as I imagined it would. The sweet scent that reminded me of tree sap and freshly mown grass was a good contrast to the exhaust fumes that filled the Xi’an air. The flight had been on time, but my mind was still soaking on five weeks of memories.
Day 1: We’re walking through customs. The Xi’an airport looks the same as every other airport. The grey-and-white walls, pillars, ceilings, and floor tiles, the nondescript lights and dustbins. Why do the insides of all airports look interchangeable? They’re so culture-mute.
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