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Watching the sunset, standing under the blazing stars, feeling the wind on my face both day and night, had been a given. Now, here I was, in a grey city with a great cappuccino. A 24-year-old, with party invites to celebrate the end of university, friends to see, exams to take, and yet this terrestrial life felt insubstantial. I wrote the essays, went to the parties, celebrated with my friends, drank the rum, but part of me still felt at sea.
I was back on shore for so little time, I didn’t manage to adjust. The days raced by, and almost before I knew it, I was stepping out of a cab and onto the docks of Horta, on Faial, in the Azores archipelago. Something in the air felt…