Between my undergraduate college and postgraduate school now, I spent four months looking for a reason not to pursue physics. I found none. Physics has a logic to it, and an emotion few are lucky to see; once you are acquainted with it, it is hard to find anything else more satisfying than looking around you and being able to trace why something is the way it is, all the way back to around 13 billion years ago.
As I pen this, I sit with a cup of coffee, over two-thousand metres high on the edge of a balcony in a stoneclad house overlooking a deep valley embraced by several lush, green tropical mountains.
And it is not physics that I am thinking of.