We were only two hours into the bus ride from southern Ecuador across the Peruvian border and I’d already nearly lost my mind. We had six or seven hours to go, and the overnight bus was anything but comfortable.
Grumpy old men were yelling at the driver about who knows what. The guy next to me was in a heated conversation about politics with the guy two rows back. Neglected babies crying at piercing octaves.
Turn after turn along dark mountainous roads, the combination of terror and motion sickness left me feeling even more anxious. As if things couldn’t get worse, the silent farter was slowly suffocating everyone in the bus.
I put on my headphones, turned the volume up, and moved back the window curtains to observe what was going on out there.
Midnight blue skies gave way to the golden warm glow of streetlamps. The full moon hung low beneath over the jagged silhouettes of mountains in the distance. A thousand stars dotted the sky.
And just like that…a change in perspective. I sat in silent awe and appreciation of the pure, great bliss of this moment in time and of the world passing by me through the view of a bus window.