Eastward Bound

There’s nothing better than stepping off a plane after a 12 hour trans-atlantic flight and breathing in the cool mountain air. I instantly feel better about life, about the world, but especially about my skin—that plane air is killer.

So off to find a hotel. Everyone was shocked when I announced I was quitting my job, emptying out the savings account, buying a first-class ticket to Switzerland, and taking off within a week. But after what happened in the snow storm, there was no other option. I had to get out of there. They were bound to track me down sooner or later, and when that happened, it would all be over.

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