The Smell of Cold Air | A Memory That Sparked a Journey

It was December of 1970, and the sky over New York City was wrapped in a steel-gray chill. At just three and a half years old, he stepped off the plane at JFK Airport, clutching his mother’s hand, the collar of his little coat stiff against his neck. He had never known cold — truly known it — until that night.

Born in the warmth of Colombia, the sting of winter air hitting his face was like breathing in a story he had never read before.

Through the blur of bustling travelers and flickering fluorescent lights, his eyes locked on a figure above: his father, standing on the second-floor mezzanine, waving with a kind of urgent joy. That moment, as fleeting as a breath, would live in his memory forever.

Not just the sight, but the scent — the sharp, clean smell of cold air, tinged with jet fuel and unfamiliar promise.

He would tell that story again and again. Not because it was grand, but because it was real. Because that was the moment the world opened itself to him. A boy who couldn’t yet form full sentences in English, but who understood in his bones that he was beginning something new. An adventure that would shape him into a storyteller.

At The Elegance of Travel, we believe in moments like that. Moments that start with awe and end with meaning.

We don’t just plan trips. We guide people into memories that become stories. Stories that are told again and again with laughter, nostalgia, and wonder.

Because that’s the beauty of travel. First, it leaves you speechless. Then, if you’re lucky, it gives you a voice.