A journey of 5099 miles...

When Confucius said "a journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step" he obviously hadn't anticipated travelling with me. I can appreciate the beauty of that statement and the truth in its simplicity. I, however, do not have a problem taking that first step from where I am in search of a new location and new adventures. It's the getting out the door and on my way that's the problem.

If Confucius had anticipated travelleing with me he would know that a journey of any distance (particularly ones farther than a 2 hour plane ride away) begins with packing, and repacking, my bags so that the contents are in the most condensed form they can possibly be in and the bag is full. Not just kind of full, but every possible crevice full. So full that being over the weight limit, or just at it within a 1/10 of a kilogram is a distinct possibility.

Furthermore, he would know that it doesn't start there, no, oh no. Anyone who's taken me to the airport, when I'm departing for long periods of time, knows that a journey of however many miles begins with repacking my bags on the fly, usually just to the left of the check-in counter, to balance the weight more equally amongst them. (Did you ever hear the one about my adventure repacking at Heathrow? It was a good one. Air Canada's weight restriction is 23 kg per bag. I had 3 bags, 69 kg in total, but not equally distributed. One new bag and some frantic repacking/weighing/repacking/weighing and I was on my way.)

Today though was different, however not improved different more "you've reach a new level" different. It began with the handy pull up handle on my new (2 days old to be precise) bending beyond repair before I'd even left the elevator at my mom's. Well, I knew it was super heavy, so although disappointing I wasn't completely shocked. Oh, well it had wheels so I managed to get it out to my Dad's car. He has driven me out to and picked me up from the airport a number of times. He has lots of experience with how I pack and how I travel. Each time I confess I am always a little bit surprised that he doesn't show visible signs shock or frustration at the amount of stuff that I am attempting to transport. Whatever it was that he must have been thinking when I, inevitably, showed up with more than last time he was calm and non judgemental and just accepted what I was taking without negative comment. And I appreciate that. Greatly.

Before we'd even been on the road 5 minutes, nay 3 minutes, he was already talking about other ways of transporting my bags. They were heavy. He knew. After all he had just loaded them into the car. Knowing that on arrive in Osaka there would be no one there to meet me and I'd be on my own with these 3, heavy, bags he started talking through the possibilities. He offered to sort out the shipping of whatever didn't go this day. Was there one bag that contained all my essentials? No, in an attempt to distribute the weight equally from the beginning I'd mixed clothes and books in all my bags. So before we'd even gotten to the airport I was repacking prioritize my bags into "what must travel with me today" and "what was not needed immediately and could arrive anytime in the next week". Heavier, non-essential books were moved into the, broken, "to follow" bag and lighter summer clothes into the "for travel today". Once accomplished we were off to the airport once again.

To top the whole story off, one bag down I checked into my flight only to find out it wasn't a through flight, I'd have to collect my bags, and check in separately for my flight to Japan. Not only would this be a hassle (and later I'd find out I'd also have to check in separately in Toyko for Osaka) but I'd been counting on the baggage allowance for Japan, a generous 9 kg more than that for the rest of the world. This would mean I should be restricted to the regular baggage allowance. Fortunately, the check in woman took pity on me and didn't charge for the excess weight. But if that bag was so close to even the generous Japan allowance I don't even dare to imagine what the third, coming later, bag would have been. (Though I expect I'll find out when I see the shipping waybill.)

I've accomplished a lot of moving in this haphazard manner; enlisted family and even generous friends to help me transport luggage by car and/or public transport. When does it all end though? In my defense, the majority of my baggage weight this time came from books, teaching resources, that I purchased in Canada, for use in Japan as English resource books are scarce. I have, hopefully, a year's worth of resources. But still here I am, once more, moving via my free baggage allowance. I imagine that there are other ways of moving; moving properly. I even dream of a time when I am able to partake in them- shipping everything in boxes, having it delivered to my door.

This wasn't lack of planning on my part. I knew they were heavy and cumbersome and that taking my bags home on public transport would not be an option. Taxi, home delivery, I wasn't sure, but I knew that they were going from baggage carousel to cart and that dragging them around town wasn't part of the plan. It's not like I haven't travelled enough to know what 23 kg feels like, looks like. Why do I delude myself thinking this will work, it can be managed? Years of travelling on my own perhaps without having to rely on others? False economy of either time or money? I'm not sure, but there was a sense of optimism that if I could pack it I could take it, manage it. Despite significant, previous experience to the contrary.

I can't tell you how this story ends, whether my bags, check or not make it home in one piece, and what events might have to take place to this end. At the moment I'm still at Vancouver Airport, waiting to board my flight to Toyko. Whatever happens by 10 pm Japan time tonight I'll be home, ready for a new school year, ready for the journey to continue.