Peering over the railing to the dock far below I observed crates of pineapples, tomatoes and other produce being unloaded from the bowels of the ship. The crates had my sympathy for although I was not in the bowels, I was at least in the spleen with my inside room. What made that strange was that there was no referential horizon which created a peculiar feeling when the ship would jerk occasionally.

The cruise was what you expected, a ridiculous amount of service for a ridiculous amount of money. I would do it again. One should always subscribe to moderation, including moderation.

Instead of checking our bags, Kerri and I chose to schlep them to the taxi. We could have been in any English port city, Southampton was not particularly distinctive or enthralling. I got an electric tingle out of the new driving rules and strange road signs. I saw a red rectangular sign that exclaimed "Changed Priorities Ahead" and I had to laugh to myself because that took my memory back to when I realized that I was not going to be able to conquer the world via bicycle. It all seems like ancient history now.

These signs were now declarations to my foreignness that screamed that God's priorities had changed too. No longer was he blessing America but he was now saving the Queen.

It was scary and exhilerating simultaenously. The international part of my journey had finallyy begun.