When The Travel Bug Bites

As of this writing we've been in China for a week and change.  In that time:

• I ripped the toenail on my left big toe
• I nearly twisted my ankle and almost broke my Birkenstock.  Without glue and tools I will make due.
• One of Eleanor's eyes is red and sore
• We're both jet lagged from the 15 hour time change but we're adapting
• I've had a bout of Chairman Mao's revenge and Eleanor has had several, perhaps enough for honorary member in the Chinese Communist Party
• Something bit Eleanor and her arm swelled up like a sausage
• I've got the sniffles and a sore throat, maybe from too much A/C or being packed in too tightly on trains and buses and having half of the population of the People's Republic of China sneeze on me.

Perhaps we'd better slow down and act our ages.  But I know that even when we get packed like sardines into trains and buses, get sent on wild goose chases by badly translated maps and eat things that we never want to taste again, such as Sichuan peppercorns, I know that we're having the kind of shared experiences and adventures that can't be bought and that we'll remember when health or age makes new travels and adventures too difficult or impossible.