Personal Narrative Essay: Backpacking Trip To Las Vegas

Whether it’s turning the last page of a book with dreaded anticipation, watching candid home videos of your mom singing to you in the bath tub, or packing boxes and leaving the familiarity of home, some things never fail to trigger emotions of both happiness and gut-wrenching sadness.

After anxiously surpassing rows of automated, glass doors, one must move quickly before being trampled by the aggressive rumble of suitcase wheels. The essence of a well put together businessman in a suit on his way home from a conference in Las Vegas is juxtaposed with a man sitting nearby in sweatpants, who just completed a backpacking trip around Peru. Illuminated overhead signs constantly move like a game show displaying places ranging all the way from Paris, France to Luang Prabang, Laos and everywhere in between. An Airport. A gateway to people, places, and lifestyles. People come and go all hours of the day, which makes this place equally exciting and sorrowful. It’s almost hard to believe the extreme personal significance airports play in the life of a small, miniscule girl like me, when they assist approximately 2,586,582 different people each day.

I have been in the airport for numerous reasons such as studying abroad, family vacation, visiting a significant other, picking up a family member, and each time there’s hundreds of

Many people, many nationalities, and many cultures all converge under the same roof to make for a diverse assemblage of its own. These people will succumb to buying overpriced water bottles and bland airline commodities as they come and go for a plethora of reasons. My encounter with the airport is always changing, and I cherish the times it can be labeled as an undoubtedly, delightful place to be. I’ll always be drawn to both the happiest and saddest place I