It has come to be that my services in Chuuk are no longer required, and though there are plenty more stories to tell from that isle, they will have to wait for another time, dear reader. Look for it in the posthumously-published box set. For reasons to go unexplained, I decide to hop some islands before I leave the region. Such does not go as planned.
I arrive at what should be Country #112, only to find that I need proof of an MMR vaccine to pass through Marshall Islands Immigration. A measles outbreak has made it so Pacific travelers must have proof of vaccination before wandering around aimlessly from island to island.
Quarantine officers lead me into the ticket office and sell me a ticket to San Francisco for $1228 dollars. I have the travel bug, it is safe to say, and I am not ready to go to New York which would cost $300 more. I lament the loss the now-thousands of dollars I have spent in my hasty getaway, though it is hard to be mad. Fate has dealt this hand, it is safe to say, and I am unwilling—or perhaps just emotionally incapable—to fight back. I could have gone to Honolulu and stayed there awhile. But I am truthfully sick of this festering Pacific Ocean. I’d rather go home, or something like it.
My brother lives in Davis, CA, and as I think about my hasty decision to go there rather than flying into Newark. I’m in the mood for Mexican. California’s much better for that. But first: Vietnamese. I book a hostel bed outside Chinatown and down a large bowl of scalding pho in cold, cold San Francisco. I sleep for twelve straight hours.
Victor Bernabei is just another millenial travel blogger. But here's the twist: He isn't a millenial! His goal is to see as many countries as he can, and spread the message that the world is not as scary as the news wants you to believe, and that there is beauty in all people, places and things.