I'm a little late with this today, but just blame the courier.
There I was sitting at the kitchen table, fresh hot latte to my left, fully loaded fountain pen poised in my right hand, pristine white page before me begging to be branded with my script. But what to write at the top of another new week? Several hands shot up to offer answers in my classroom of ideas. I considered which one to call upon, my mind caught up in weighing the merits and savouring the possibilities. I was yanked out of this creative reverie by the intruder alarm.
A great ruckus of barking, growling and foot-stomping from our resident canine announced that a FedEx truck had pulled up out front. The driver bounced out, giving rise to more barking and fancy footwork. Under his arm was a grey box.
Those few country names on the side were more than enough to get my feet dancing. I made the requisite scribble of a signature on the electronic keypad and he handed me the package.
Travel Documents! Now this was exciting! I headed straight back to the kitchen table, shoved the writing gear aside, then lay the box down and pried it open, licking my lips as I worked. For the next hour and a half I engrossed myself in going through everything. I checked the ID badges - yes our names are spelt correctly. I checked the luggage tags - yes, as advertised they are real leather! I read the little booklets cover to cover, TWICE. But something was missing. A ticket.
There's just something about holding a ticket in my hand that makes my travel dreams real. I don't just want to look at it on a computer or smartphone screen. I want an official paper with dates, and names and transportation details with a bit of unintelligible airport and city codes. But today I got a box. A box which held a snazzy black zippered case emblazoned with The Viking logo on the front and a tagline on the back - "Exploring the World in Comfort®". The itinerary and destination booklets are tucked inside along with personalized nametags on lanyards and luggage tags.
I guess these will just have to do to satisfy my need for something tangible. Admittedly, the luggage tags do have a certain cachet, a bit of an exotic allure ...
but still, I want a ticket!
©2014 April Hoeller