Let the Games Begin

And begin they did, as soon as I got home from (a completely kick ass day at) work.

I went to the storage space for my apartment and dug out my pack - my beloved, wonderful blue-green pack that has been with me since my senior year of college. I love my pack. I bought it in the early spring of 2001. Leslie Buschbom - who is now Leslie Cadle - and I were planning our first European backpacking foray. I was about to graduate from undergrad; Les had a semester to go, but I would soon be moving to France. We decided that this was our do-or-die travel time, and we'd go to Europe for about a month.

Tingling with excitement and Delta Sky Miles one spring day, we solidified our travel plans and began shopping for our adventure. We drove up to the North Georgia Premium Outlets off Georgia 400, at Dawsonville. We felt and examined every article of backpacker-type gear at L.L.Bean, Timberland, and the North Face outlet - having no idea, honestly, what we were looking for, but thrilled and eager just the same. We bought the last two correctly-sized women's packs they had at North Face and drove home, wild-eyed and planning our trip.

We made it deliriously back to Athens, unloaded our treasure on the floor of my apartment, and did what any sensible women do with new purchases: we tried everything on, ran around the apartment doing the happy dance, and took our packs completely apart and reconfigured them in every way we could think of. Kind of like leggos or construx that you can wear. How cool is THAT? What an awesome day ... and thus began my pack.

That pack saw me through the month we spent backpacking: through the Five-Star Ferry ride from hell (which included cattle, pigs, Australians, Swedes, Greeks, a recently divorced and rather chatty-about-her-personal-life British woman, 23 hours, and more liquor than I ever dare consume again); through shady hostels in Prague, through falling asleep on the train in Florence and waking up in Rome (oops!), through hours and hours and hours of waiting in airports, at bus stops, and at train stations- including the most frightening place on earth, La Spezia at 2am; through train wrecks in Germany; through the worst train trip ever (that began with my discovery of Bob Marley ended in the worst red wine hangover ever); through Tiffany's stuffing jelly-sized packets of Nutella in her shirt and making a break for it (don't ask); through my discovery of ouzo and grappa; through "the cool thing about Salzburg;" through Greek beach paradise (Corfu - everything Jimmy Buffett ever wanted the beach to be); through Sarah cutting my hair on the beach; through Leslie losing her last shred of clean clothing ("Dammit, Smith, that was it for me!"); through the Augustiner Biergarten and the strongest and best-tasting beer I have ever encountered; through quiet Italian nights and sunsoft Mediterrenaen days. That pack's been there for my best adventures. So taking it out was like seeing an old travel buddy. I'm ready to go!

So I began packing for my next adventure, determined to take only the essentials - which is difficult when the "essentials" include massive, six-pound knee-high rubber boots. But these are indeed essential if they will help me avoid snakebite, so they're getting crammed in there. I proceeded to wash clothes, iron (don't ask) and participate in the ritual "try on every stitch of clothing I plan to take with me." This included a quality hour spent dancing around the house to Indigo Girls while wearing pink pajama shorts, a black yoga top, my new yellow and white rain jacket (which I love love love - thanks, REI), and my black knee-high rubber boots. Man, I was HOT. Okay, not really ... but I sure had fun! I will never as long as I live outgrow playing dress-up! Especially when the dress-up is a self-congratulatory "I'm going on vacation" dress-up. :')

About that time the phone rang - Kameko! One of the travel buddies and originator of this trip. Tingling with excitement and questions about what she was packing, I answered. The conversation went something like this:

Tif: Hey! What are you packing to wear in Miami?
Kameko: I haven't gotten to that part of packing yet. I've had the worst day ever.
Tif: Well, tomorrow will be better. What happened?
Kameko: No, it won't.
Tif: Of course it will! It'll be your birthday and we'll be in Miami, on our way to Peru.
Kameko: Not if I don't find my passport.
Tiffany: (meaningful silence)
Kameko: My boss is out of town and it really hit the fan at work. I erased all the music on my iPod - like ten gigs. I ruined a pair of pants. I haven't eaten. I'm not packed. And I lost my passport.
Tiffany: Umm...It'll be fine. When did you last see it?
Kameko: November. But I have a driver's license. Maybe I can go with a driver's license. I mean, it's South America ...
Tiffany: Getting there shouldn't be a problem. It's getting back into the U.S. that could be tricky.
Kameko: Oh, if I get stuck in South America, f*ck it! I just want to GET there. Do you understand that if I don't get to go on this trip I will have a complete meltdown? (NOTE: This is why I love traveling with Kameko. No way in hell are we turning back once an adventure is in place - it's "get there or bust" time. We have the same bald determination to make it happen.)
Tiffany: Yes. That's why we're going to find your passport. Umm, call the airline and check to see what documents you need.
Kameko: Yeah, I mean, I have a Georgia driver's license...

Kameko is much better traveled than I -- I think she's visited six of the seven continents, and most of them multiple times. She's had the Day from Hell and has managed to lose her passport and is clearly distraught because she's talking about using a Georgia driver's license in lieu of her passport. Hmmm.

She calls back.

Kameko: I'm a moron. Of COURSE I need a passport.
Tiffany:I was afraid of that.
Kameko: So Miami has a passport office. We could change our flight and go down early and see if we can get one issued on an emergency basis ... but they'll be closed for Good Friday... so we'd have to go tomorrow, if they're open...
Tiffany: I can leave whenever - just give me time to get to the airport and I'll go early with you. Umm... Have you looked in the trunk of your car? Your purses? Under your car seats?
Kameko: Yep. This can't be happening! (Minor meltdown) I'm going to keep looking ...
Tiffany: Hang in there. It will be fine. I know it will. (thoughts: please please please let it be fine...)

I keep packing and start trying to cull my appointed clothes. Kameko's situation is nagging at me ... what would we do without Kameko, our partner in crime? It will be fine ... of course it will be fine. There's no other option, now, is there? My pack is pretty full, but if I dump the rubber boots and cut some airholes, Kameko might be able to fit in there and survive the flight. Then again, I don't want to be arrested for human trafficking. I'm sure we could explain everything and avoid involving Peruvian law enforcement, Interpol, and the DEA. I mean, what good is a law degree if you don't put it to practical use, right? And talking us out of involvement in the slave trade *definitely* qualifies as practical. Hmmm... The phone rings again.

Kameko (screaming hysterically): I found it! I found it!!
Tiffany and Kameko: (mutually deafened by the other's squealing)
Tiffany: Where was it?
Kameko: In my old purse! I'd already looked in there, but there's this zip pocket ... Now I have to pack! OMG, OMG, OMG...

See? Already an adventure - twice or three times over, when you count the Traveland SNAFU. Wonder what will happen when we actually LEAVE HOME...? We'll find out tomorrow ... we fly out for Miami at 8:21 pm. To celebrate Kameko's birthday in South Beach. With her passport. Woo hoo hoo!
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On a more sentimental note, I'm so happy. I have that wonderful, peaceful, "I'm about to go discover something amazing" feeling. I'm off to enjoy my last night of dreams in my own comfy bed.

T