It’s always a bittersweet feeling flying back into Beijing. Immediately, I’m confronted with swarms of Chinese people rushing through the airport trying to collect their five pieces of luggage from their four-day trip. Loud voices come creeping in through my headphones as people light cigarettes in the taxi line. “Welcome back!” my friends will tell me - to which I usually just say thanks instead of going on a rant of how much I loathe coming back here after a relaxing vacation. Regardless of my feelings, I’m back to work and back to my routine, which has its benefits. I like going to the gym at the same time every day, I enjoy riding my scooter instead of having to negotiate taxi prices, and it’s nice to use my computer again (which I typically don’t bring when I travel.)

On the other hand, ending a vacation sucks - a word my father deplores - but it pretty much sums up all my feelings about coming back home. I miss the weather, the new culture, the food, the ocean, the fact that when I wake up, I have no responsibilities. Traveling is great, but getting back to the ‘constants’ in my life is also nice. Perhaps one day I’ll figure out a way to combine them.