Airports seem to reflect their location.  You can get a good bottle of wine for $10 in Jordan’s airport or the same wine for $50 in Hong Kong’s airport.

At Tel Aviv’s airport,  each traveler is assigned a security officer for an interview. (In both of mine, I got some special questions about why I am travelling alone and how much money I make. One time, I had to recount every city I had visited since I left San Francisco. Difficult while a person with a gun seems to think you are suspicious) At the airport on Cyprus, the cab drivers are falling all over themselves for a fare.  Hanoi’s airport is wall to wall people crammed into small spaces. SFO has great food. Siem Reap’s airport is unassuming and peaceful.

I am at an airport.

On my way home.