My legs feel like jelly when I step off the plane. Following the other passengers to passport control, my butterflies are flapping about like crazy and when I pass my passport over, my hands are shaking. ‘Stop it’ I tell myself, starting a new mantra. ‘Just give him a chance’. I repeat it over and over in my head. I’m surprised I haven’t been stopped and searched, I must look nervous. My heart is beating relentlessly against my rib cage and my hands are so sweaty they slip on the handle of my case.