The Easy Start

Attempting to board the plane in Manchester, my boarding pass set off a strange tone from the machine and the chubby guy told me I needed to step aside and have my travel documents reviewed. Apparently he was afraid of being fined for letting me on the plane without an onward ticket, like I was going to sneak into Korea on a tourist visa and never leave.

I sorted it out, showing him my Russian and Chinese visas and official Russian tourism invitation. He had to call up and ask someone a bunch of questions that clearly betrayed his inexperience while I looked out the window to make sure the plane didn't leave without me. I got on, only holding the plane up a few minutes, though I feel like the crew and passengers resented me for it. A stewardess banged my knee with a beverage cart and maybe I just wasn't awake enough, but I don't think she bothered to apologize.

I barely had to wait for either of my layovers in Detroit and Tokyo. On the two international legs I sat next to two university professors. Maybe it's a sign, along with working 20 hours a week and having three or four months off per year.

I didn't know how I'd feel about coming back to Korea as a tourist after living and working here for two years, but it felt perfectly normal when I zoomed through customs and got into a cab that drove way too recklessly without providing seatbelts and brought me to a "hostel" illegally located in some guys apartment. I did know that starting a trip in Korea would be easy for me to slide into a traveling mindset, but first things first: I need to find a surgeon to fix me up because it's too damn expensive in America.

The Plan

Right to left, that's the plan. When I step off the plane in Korea, I won't step back on one until I get the European Atlantic at the very earliest. I'll take a boat to Russia, and trains and buses from there on out, with maybe another boat or two across the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. And maybe a bicycle or motorcycle for good measure.

I leave tomorrow, and so far I have plenty of room in my pack. I'm foregoing a large backpacking pack in favor of a smaller and more manageable day pack, along with the case for my travel guitar. I've yet to pack with a sense of finality, but it seems I never do. I'll throw everything in at the last minute tomorrow, I'm sure.

Beside my guitar, ready to go in its case I have a book of scales and arpeggios, a fat guidebook for China, a small daily planner that I've been using as a mini journal, and in the outside pocket, a small padded box containing mini travel games such as backgammon, cribbage, checkers and chess. I'm going to have to learn some of those games so Adam and I can stay sane if we're held up in some godforsaken place waiting for a train or a sign or our salvation. I also have some pencils and pens in a case given to me by a student, a tuner, capo, string winding tool, and picks. One of the picks was used by B.B. King when I saw him at the Whittemore Center; I hope I don't lose that one.

In my bag I have my camera and case and cords, a lightweight down windbreaker, Gore-Tex outer shell, and pack towel in the bottom pocket. I have two extra pairs of boxers, three extra pairs of socks, two extra T-shirts, and pair of running shorts, a short sleeve shirt and a long sleeve shirt. I have a couple small gifts to give to my girlfriend on the occasion of our last time seeing each other, perhaps, for good. I have a small bag of toiletries and I have some important documents and an alarm clock, Korean cell phone and charger, spare boot laces and insoles, flip-flops, decoy wallet, buckle strap, and other small miscellaneous things. In the outer pocket I have a mostly empty journal and a copy of Three Cups of Tea next to my shades and glasses.

With the exception of a sweater, and maybe a hat and some gloves purchased here or there, those things should get me from right to the left side of that map. Should, however, is a very unreliable word.