Day One
Germany. The first day of it. I might not get far.
I'd rather promise little. If I make it as far as the Alps, I'll call that a good beginning.
I know my fear. This time I've prepared for it, as far as anyone prepares for a thing like this. For twenty years I've been looking at pictures of one particular mountain in Tibet. This morning, after two months of getting ready, I simply drove off.
Italy, then Albania, then India. In Vrindavan there is an old friend I'd like to see.
I'm afraid of failing at it. That tends to happen when a thing matters.
Over the past weeks a lot of people told me this was possible: friends, family, a few strangers who had heard about it somewhere. I'm writing it down for them, and for anyone still carrying something around that they haven't started.
Frank Goes Walkabout