Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.
To those in Vietnam: Thank you for opening your doors. I’m extremely humbled by your kindness, for allowing a stranger such as myself to bunk on your floor during my travels.
The world is ours, and I can’t wait to pay my respects.