Theroux

I am reading Theroux's The Old Patagonian Express describing his journey circa 1976 "by train to the Americas" ... from BOSTON.  Yep.  I've only made it as far as Chicago with Paul and so far his train has been severely delayed by crazy winter snow storms and he's drinking a lot of vodka-infused "pick me ups" in the dining car.  Eventually, the story has it, he really does arrive in Patagonia, as far as Esquel in Argentina (quite near where I also hope to eventually be in Bariloche).  He's a great writer, attuned to all the important details of train sounds and smells and passenger etiquette.   The book was a going away present from Moni who inscribed it perfectly to say:

To Karen, my fellow adventurer.

All great journeys combine a good measure of ups with a few unavoidable downs. Later, in retrospect, the downs - magically - turn into unforgettable memories.  

Cherish every moment.

In his introduction to the book Theroux provides some context and offers an observation I find comforting -- especially today my day of (imminent) departure in this dreary cold rain :

"...A book like this... is not a problem to study and annotate.  It is something I wrote to give pleasure; something to enjoy. You should be able to see these people and places, to hear them and smell them. Of course, some of it is painful, but travel - its very motion - ought to suggest hope. Despair is the armchair; it is indifference and glazed, incurious eyes. I think travelers are essentially optimists, or else they would never go anywhere..."

Yep.  See you next in Peru!