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I'll never forget landing in New Zealand in 1982 on my way to Australia. Back then, we could deplane and stand out on the tarmac, stretching our legs. I remember walking down the steps and being walloped by humid air -- something we rarely had in Denver, the Mile High City -- and the wonderful smell of strange trees.

From that moment on, I knew I was always going to travel.

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Oh, what a moment! I love that it’s not even when you actually got to properly get to know a place - just the tarmac and identifying differences is enough to learn that you want to travel more. I totally get it!!

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