"Writing about Place"

Wiggling back and forth in my seat, to the extent it looks like I have some kind of disease. My heart was beating as loud as a drum drowning out all the noise. My palms were sweating as if I were supplying the ocean with water. All the while my teeth exposed from the enormous smile on my face hurting the sides of my mouth. I was home in a place I had never been. It was hot and my throat felt dry. I wanted a sip of water ever so badly. From the moment I arrived the thirst was unbearable. The sun was warm like a sweater touching my skin. The sand in my shoes was irratating. But the view was breath taking: three pyramids standing so tall for thousands of years was mind bottling. I was in awe and didn’t want to break eye contact from the biggest thing I had ever seen. It was worth all the terrible hours on plane, near death experiences in Cairo traffic, and almost being taken hostage by unlikely suitor. Who probably wanted me to marry him exchange for a few camels. As I stood in then shade near the oldest of the pyramids my neck was craned up to see blue peaking around the enormous triangle figure.