where I am this morning, on vacation in the Puget Sound. It was the mid-eighties, and I was a teenager and traveling then, too--living in a school bus with a bunch of other people for a year. I was away from everything I'd known in my small corner of the world back east.
For very little money you can be front and center on your own cruise through fantastic islands, through fog and rain, with a lot of other strangers on the journey with you. They're doing puzzles that are left on the table for someone else to complete. They're reading, playing guitar, talking to their dogs. They're sprawled on padded benches, sleeping, or getting coffee out of a machine.
green-and-white ships in Hong Kong that run from Hong Kong Island to Kowloon and back.) I'm in transit, that happy state of quasi-limbo where you're heading somewhere, but not quite there yet. I'm on the water, where I always like to be.
I always thought I'd live on an island someday and I won't rule that out yet, even though the mountains I call home right now are very much like islands in their own way. If I do, I'll take a ferry to connect to the rest of the world, and take it to escape from it, too.