“Hong Kong is present
Taipei awakes
All talk of circadian rhythm”
Taipei awakes
All talk of circadian rhythm”
…and just like that my newly-commenced Portuguese classes have practical application.
Up in the air again for another red eye flight. I’m taking one of those routes that send you into short fits of deep sleep that are punctuated by total lucidity as your body cycles in and out of power saving mode. I am looking out the window at the coast of Portugal on a southbound heading. Eight hours ago I was on the African continent, and now of course I find myself making the proverbial U-Turn that is logically sound for this part of the world. In order to get down to your destination, you must first go up. A bit of a pain, but at least the coffee in Portugal is excellent.
I’d like to say that I don’t know how my Dad did this type of work for 27 years, but ultimately I can’t. The perpetual jet lag and unfamiliarity that is inherent in global travel has become a similar path that I too have chosen. In fact, I didn’t realize that this was what I was going to be when I grew up until just now.
Over lunch yesterday a co-worker asked me about when I started traveling. After doing some basic math (I already told you I was no statistician), I realized that for 17 years of my life I have been shuttling around from place to place with no real plan in mind. So that said, I know exactly how my Dad did this kind of lifestyle for so long, and I totally understand why he is content to now sit on his ass at the Hatchville Shipyard and go nowhere. It’s a nice prospect to think about.
But I’m not complaining. I have one of the best jobs that anyone could ask for, and I count myself as ridiculously lucky to have the ability to scratch out blog entries on the back of loose paper and then transfer it onto my netbook while sitting in a Moroccan train station under a semi-coherent state of being. That’s where I am at now. I don’t know if you, dear reader, would describe yourself as the lucky recipient of this chatter, but I am definitely enjoying being out on the road while school is out in Dakar.
No it’s not Ireland. You’re looking at Casablanca. But I’d still delete any reference to the black and white motion picture nostalgia that is probably floating around your brain.
More to follow, hopefully with less typos and a few more hours of sleep. Dieu est grand.