Flying Around the World… Again
I have no idea how many times I’ve done this.
I used to know. I could tell you I’d circled the earth three times in my travels. But I’d be guessing. Somewhere the counter broke. Was it four? Six? If you count all the miles I’ve flown over the years, the number is embarrassing and meaningless at the same time.
Now at Country 94
Countries I still count. Timor Leste is 94.
I remember when 86 felt like an achievement worth a post. Then 90 came and went. Now I’m up to 94, and I notice I’m not celebrating. Just counting. Ninety-four is close enough to 100 that the number has started to feel like a chore instead of a collection.
That’s the thing nobody warns you about with a life spent in departure lounges. The world becomes a blur.
Timor Leste Doesn’t Fit
Number ninety-four is a surprise.
Geographically it’s Southeast Asia. Culturally, mostly, it’s Asian. But it has none of the frenetic energy I associate with the region. No Bangkok clatter, no Jakarta motorbike river that you have to walk into and trust. The pace is slow. Unhurried in a way that feels genuinely unfamiliar in Asia.
It’s like a laid-back African country. That’s the closest analog my brain could find. An Asian Lusaka in flora and fauna. Hills covered in acacia trees, not lush jungles. People flowing with a rhythm, an informality, a sense that the day will get where it’s going eventually.
Then you go to pay for something.
Services and imports here cost real money. More than I expected, enough that I noticed it repeatedly rather than once. Small country, everything arrives by boat or plane, and the price tag reflects it. Laid-back pace, first-world receipts. That combination is jarring.
Next Up: Nairobi
I thought I was headed home after Dili, but that’s not to be. A call, a “yes, ma’am” and I’m now off to Kenya for a conference, then Germany, and home. A trans-pac that’s now a trans-globe.
I’ve been to Nairobi too many times to count. First way back in 2003, then often since. It’s a great city, though I miss home.
Still I should not sound sad. I am living the life of my dreams. Going well beyond what others see or do. And I have meaning in the doing. A blessed luxury.
I need to remember that when jet lag grabs me and I nod out mid-day.