Today is transition day. To those that aren’t retired, you might call it “hump day.” In my case, it’s making a transition from being a “homebody” to a world traveler. In a few days, we’ll start our journey east, a 10 hour flight from Portland to Amsterdam. We’ll arrive sometime around 1 a.m. our time, or about 9 a.m. in the city, having lost about 8 hours. Our Anne Frank tour is at 3 p.m. “My time” will soon be “our time,” as controlled by airlines and ship captains. 

I’m about to enter a world of schedules, with little flexibility. It’s a sharp contrast from today, the only day this week where I have absolutely nothing planned. That may sound boring to some, but it’s heaven for me: no pet appointments, no driving, no rush, and no hassle. My run is done for the day, and the only occasions that I will leave the house will be to walk the dogs. Once my wife comes home from work this evening, we have a call with our financial adviser followed by “date night.” It will be our final opportunity to anticipate what is ahead these next few weeks. I use the acronym ADORE to describe the three stages of any travel experience – Anticipation, DOing, and REflecting. (See Post #396). Right now, everything has evolved as a result of a two-year vision: saving, securing passports, budgeting, travel agent preparations, airline schedules, shore excursion & dining bookings, hotel reservations, advance ticket purchases, digesting cruise brochures & videos, arranging for pet care, conversations with friends who have done this adventure, new luggage, travel books, packing, and other planning. What have we missed? What could go wrong? (See Post #113).

While my wife is occupied with last-minute work details, I have little to do but dream. It doesn’t seem fair, but I am nearly five years older, have paid my work dues, and became age eligible for retirement. She still seems content with her career, but it limits her time for travel. My travel is only limited by cost, while she continues to build equity for future travel. It’s like I just graduated and she’s a Freshman. Is it preferable to be younger and have the four-year experience ahead of you, or to be in my position to reflect on the journey? She will probably live longer and continue to travel without me. We both have to cherish this time together, but we are definitely on different agendas in life. I consider myself lucky to have her loving companionship, a growing family, adequate financial security, good health, and a lifetime of memories. At least for the next two weeks, we’ll have plenty of time together and many new places to see.