Eight years in the making

About eight years ago my mom handed a telephone to me with a complete stranger I had never met on the other end of the line. I still haven't met this woman, and doubt that I ever will, but including a bit about that conversation here seems appropriate. So I get on the phone with this woman... I still to this day don't know her name... and we proceed to get into some pretty serious subjects, the kind of stuff usually reserved for nights that have gone on way too long with good friends and plenty of libations. As we ramble on about everything she pauses, changes the subject, and starts talking about how lucky I am to have been to all these wondrous places in the world. At first I was a bit lost, but then I figured she had gotten confused or something. So I clarified for her that the only places I had been to off the continent of North America were in Europe. She remained adamant that my travels had taken me to far more exotic locales than those of Europe. With a little more coaxing I was able to convince her that I had indeed NOT been to any of the places she had described. After a slight pause she continued on claiming that she had gotten ahead of herself and that these are places I was destined to visit in my thirty-third year.

Needless to say I remained unconvinced. For those of you who didn't know me then, I was quite content with my life, my job, my partner, and my prospects. I had already done, or so I believed, all the traveling I thought I would want to do in my life. Well I guess the joke's on me now... up until recently I had completely forgotten about this conversation. And only about a year ago did the idea of traveling abroad re-enter my psyche and spark my curiosity. After some soul searching and a bit of planning, it seems that random woman's prediction is finally coming true, although technically it'll be in my thirty-fourth year seeing as I land in Quito, Ecuador on my 34th birthday.