How Do You Know When A Trip Begins

After we walked off the Bainbridge Ferry we found ourselves two hours early for our shuttle to the airport. We popped into the ferry building, slinked through an army of workers waiting expectantly at parade rest. Beyond that lies a little wine bar with three seats calling our name. Time at this point is measured in fluid ounces. Nine Ounces: conversation flits between Czech food, language, packing tips, and methods to reduce foot swelling on the airplane. The TV above the bar soundlessly displays a Yankee game. On the right through the windows the crowd surges ahead, office cutouts heading home, welcome aboard. Six Ounces: Gayle left her wedding ring home, Dave’s “Honey Do” list, the wonders of Costco rotisserie chicken. The terminal is empty except for two guys standing beside a table. One looks like a forty year old Beaver Cleaver, bucktoothed, wearing a boy scout uniform complete with a patch ridden sash. He is talking to an older man wearing a dense pattern of lapel pins that might have had a hat underneath. Around his neck are two huge binoculars. Zero ounces, it’s time to leave, to join the next stall which carries World Wraps. Our trip has really begun. Footnote: We've arrived in Prague in good spirits and fully stocked with luggage.