I got my first passport when I was a senior in college so I could travel to Ecuador over Christmas break. Niagara Falls was the closest I’d ever come to being out of the country before that.
When I received the passport in the mail, it felt like one of Willy Wonka’s golden tickets. Here was bureaucratic permission to explore the world! All the places I’d been reading about were now possibilities on my expanding horizon.
I did visit Ecuador… twice, as it turned out. We tubed down tributaries of the Amazon, hiked a dormant volcano, got terribly sunburnt and then took an ill-advised dip in a hot spring, ate questionable meat-on-a-stick from a street vendor, and spent 24 miserable hours in bed before dancing in the street on New Year’s Eve.
After Ecuador, I visited Scotland for a friend’s wedding, where I drank stout in a real Scottish pub, choked down haggis, ran on the Chariots of Fire beach at St. Andrew’s, toured Glamis Castle, and stood on the spot where John Knox was executed.
The last time I used my passport was on a ferry over to Victoria, B. C. I watched our 16-month-old push his own stroller around the deck in an infinite loop while my extremely pregnant wife sought the innermost room on the boat and tried to keep her lunch down. We watched fireworks over Victoria Harbor that night, probably got cheated because we had no Canadian dollars, and would have left our rental car keys in Canada, had it not been for the angelic taxi driver who sprinted into the terminal just as our 7am ferry back to Washington was boarding.
After that, my faithful passport sat dormant in a box of Important Papers until it expired. My exploring shifted to long minivan drives through the Kansas countryside, trying to visit every town in our state. Before I knew it, it had been more than 20 years since that passport was issued and over a decade since I’d last used it.
But two weeks ago, I made an appointment at my local post office, filled out a long and confusing form, and had an unflattering portrait of myself taken by a bored government employee.
I expect my new passport to arrive any day now. My heart is already starting to wonder where it will take me.
I so enjoyed these stories, Elizabeth. Thanks for sharing them over here!
"Someone who will run after me as I drive away" is now my definition of a true friend. ❤️🩹
I got my first passport when I was a senior in college so I could travel to Ecuador over Christmas break. Niagara Falls was the closest I’d ever come to being out of the country before that.
When I received the passport in the mail, it felt like one of Willy Wonka’s golden tickets. Here was bureaucratic permission to explore the world! All the places I’d been reading about were now possibilities on my expanding horizon.
I did visit Ecuador… twice, as it turned out. We tubed down tributaries of the Amazon, hiked a dormant volcano, got terribly sunburnt and then took an ill-advised dip in a hot spring, ate questionable meat-on-a-stick from a street vendor, and spent 24 miserable hours in bed before dancing in the street on New Year’s Eve.
After Ecuador, I visited Scotland for a friend’s wedding, where I drank stout in a real Scottish pub, choked down haggis, ran on the Chariots of Fire beach at St. Andrew’s, toured Glamis Castle, and stood on the spot where John Knox was executed.
The last time I used my passport was on a ferry over to Victoria, B. C. I watched our 16-month-old push his own stroller around the deck in an infinite loop while my extremely pregnant wife sought the innermost room on the boat and tried to keep her lunch down. We watched fireworks over Victoria Harbor that night, probably got cheated because we had no Canadian dollars, and would have left our rental car keys in Canada, had it not been for the angelic taxi driver who sprinted into the terminal just as our 7am ferry back to Washington was boarding.
After that, my faithful passport sat dormant in a box of Important Papers until it expired. My exploring shifted to long minivan drives through the Kansas countryside, trying to visit every town in our state. Before I knew it, it had been more than 20 years since that passport was issued and over a decade since I’d last used it.
But two weeks ago, I made an appointment at my local post office, filled out a long and confusing form, and had an unflattering portrait of myself taken by a bored government employee.
I expect my new passport to arrive any day now. My heart is already starting to wonder where it will take me.
Happy travels, Micah!
This is so sweet. Love these stories and they made me laugh.
Love these stories, Elizabeth!
that last story tho. whew.