One of my favourite parts about flying is waiting at the departure gate. Once you've reached the gate, you've passed the point of no return and you can finally stop worrying about whether or not you forgot your bathing suit because there's really nothing you can do about it now. You have a few hours to hang out and people watch. I was apparently enjoying this a bit too much since it took me 2.5 hours to realize that I was at the wrong gate. My flight should have started boarding 30 minutes ago and everyone around me was either British and dressed elegantly or so anxious to hit the pool bar that they were only barely resisting the urge to put on their bathing suits in Toronto. It turns out the wrong gate was printed on my boarding pass. Luckily, my flight was a bit late and I still made it on time. Phew.
The layered sunset on the flight from YYZ to LIM.