One month

Today marks a month since I started on my journey. The first week or so you look at your watch, do the timezone translation in your head, and imagine what's happening on the other side of the world, at the same instant, for some Einsteinian approximation to simultaneity. Gradually, you slip into your travel life like a new skin and leave such thoughts behind. You never had a previous life; you've always travelled; you were born with a backpack on your shoulders. No, that's exaggeration, but the memories of a former life do get faint as you deal with the exigencies of the traveller's life. But there are the fraying jeans, and the dwindling supplies to remind you that one day, this too will end. And not a moment too soon.