When I knew I was a traveller.
My favourite feeling is not going to bed blanketed in the warmth of the person next to me, nor is it an embrace at the end of the worst kind of day.
My favourite feeling is finally getting a long night sleep after 26 hours of airports, taxis and flying and waking up in a box-sized room surrounded by the constant buzz of New York City. And even better than this, opening the curtains stained from all of the travellers that had come before you and seeing the fresh snow tumble down on the ever busy streets of New York.
That moment, the pureness and serenity in the busiest city in the world, that's my favourite moment of all. That's when I am truly happy.
