Alright, so I wanted to share a bit about that whole Miami to Riyadh move. Man, looking back, that was quite the adventure, and not always in a fun way, you know? It’s one of those things you go through, and you’re just glad when you’re on the other side of it.
It all kicked off when I decided, for reasons that seemed good at the time, that I needed a massive change. So, Riyadh it was. First hurdle: the paperwork. Oh my goodness. I swear I spent weeks just gathering documents. Birth certificates, bank statements, letters from who-knows-where. I was running around like a headless chicken, getting things notarized, translated, the whole nine yards. It felt like I was applying to become an astronaut, not just moving for a new chapter.
Then came the packing. How do you even start packing up a life in Miami to move to the Middle East? I stared at my stuff for days. What’s essential? What’s just sentimental junk? I ended up shipping a bunch of boxes, which cost an arm and a leg. Pretty sure half of it was stuff I didn’t even really need when I got there. Classic me.
The actual journey, the flights, that was something else. I booked my tickets, trying to find a route that wouldn’t take, like, three days. Still, it was long. Miami to some big European hub – I think it was London or Frankfurt, can’t even remember clearly, it’s all a blur. I sat on that first plane for hours. Then the layover. Rushing through a massive, unfamiliar airport, trying to find the next gate. You know that feeling, right? That slight panic that you’re going the wrong way.
And then the big one: the flight to Riyadh. Another long haul. I tried to sleep, but airplane seats, man. Not built for actual human rest. I watched a couple of bad movies, ate some questionable food. The guy next to me decided my shoulder was a good pillow. Fun times. I just kept thinking, “Get me there. Just get me there.”
Finally, we landed in Riyadh. Stepping off that plane was like walking into a hairdryer. The heat, wow. Even at night. And then, the airport itself. It was huge, signs in Arabic and English, but still, a bit overwhelming when you’re tired and disoriented. I managed to get through immigration, found my bags – thankfully they all made it – and then the real fun: finding my ride. My contact was supposed to be there, but, you know how these things go. A bit of a wait, a few confusing phone calls later, and I was finally on my way to where I was staying.
Those first few days, even weeks, were just a whirlwind. Jet lag hit me like a ton of bricks. I was trying to figure out the basics, the currency, where to buy food, how to get around. It’s a completely different rhythm to life. Looking back, the actual physical act of getting from Miami to Riyadh, that whole process, was a serious undertaking. It took a lot out of me, more than I expected. It’s not just getting on a plane; it’s the mental load, the stress, the unknown. It definitely makes you appreciate the simple things, that’s for sure.
